Noble Blood
by black-rose495
Summary: Eleanor wants nothing more than to kill Howe - or does she? Can love temper her fury? Sort of follows the plot of Origins, with additions to make things more interesting ;) rated M for future smut because I know what I'm like ;)
1. Chapter 1

He'd been watching her all day. She hadn't seen it herself, but she'd felt his eyes boring into her all day, fixed on her. At first she thought she was just imagining it, but after four hours on the road she'd become conscious that she had a pair of eyes fixed on her. She did try once to catch him in the act, but when she turned around he was tormenting the dog and not looking anywhere near her. Regardless, she knew he'd been staring and she wanted to know why.

When they eventually stopped to make camp, she decided to confront him about it. He was stood where he always was, opposite Leliana, the questionably sane rogue/ex-chantry sister. He appeared to show no interest when she walked over to him, but internally he was trying to control his damned blush which always popped up at the most inconvenient of times. She called his name as she approached to alert him to her presence, not that he didn't know she was there.

"Alistair, I'd like to talk to you." She stood in front of him, her green eyes reflecting the light of the fire, making them dance with colour.

"Something on your mind?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

She considered how to word her suspicions, "I'm not entirely sure how best to say this so maybe I should just…say it." She looked at him and saw a flicker of worry cross his eyes. "I… get the feeling you don't like me."

He stood there flabbergasted. Not like her? Why would she think that? "Eleanor, I…"

"It's ok, you don't have to justify yourself. Just, please stop staring daggers into my back. It's just uncomfortable . I can feel your eyes boring into my back when we walk and I'd appreciate it if you could stop. Thanks." She turned to walk to her tent when he called to her.

"Wait!" She stopped walking and turned back to face him. She waited for him to speak, but he said nothing, just blushed. "I – Maker this is awkward. I haven't been glaring at you Eleanor, I – Maker, please don't make me say this." He looked at the ground, praying it would swallow him up. When it didn't, he mumbled something incoherent.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."

"_Iwasstaringatyourbum_." The red of his cheeks spread to his face as Eleanor stood, mouth open in shock. A sting shot across his cheek, making his eyes water. "Ow, that hurt."

"I am not a piece of meat! How dare you treat me as such!" she clenched and unclenched her fists, trying to control her anger. Is that how he saw her then? As a prize to be won? _He's just like every other man I've met! _

"Eleanor, it's not like that! Please, that's not how I see you, I –" he sighed, "I was planning to tell you, really, I was. I like you Eleanor, as in I like you a lot. I swear, I didn't mean to stare, I was just…entranced." His blush stayed burned into his cheeks, making him feel like his face was on fire.

She stood open-mouthed, words evading her. "Alistair…" she whispered. Her hand slapped his face again, making his cheek even redder than it already was, "That's for staring at my arse all day," she leaned in and kissed the red mark on his cheek, "and _that's _to say sorry for slapping you." She moved away from him, an amused smile on her lips.

"You could have done that _without_ slapping me you know," he complained. His cheek stung, but her kissed helped ease the pain, even if it was only by a little bit.

She turned and walked back towards her tent, calling behind her, "True, but then where would be the fun in that?"

Alistair noticed her hips swayed more than normal. _That minx _he thought. He stood staring in her direction before he noticed Leliana giggling at him. Scowling, he disappeared into his tent.

* * *

"I must say, that was an excellent show." A head popped into Eleanor's line of sight. The red-headed rogue moved to sit next to Eleanor outside her tent. Despite her annoying accent, she had grown to like the Orlesian. She was the sister she had never had growing up, someone she both shed blood with and obsessed over the latest fashions with. It wasn't like when her mother dressed her up for the visiting nobles. With Leliana she chose to indulge in her rare luxuries of silk shoes and jewelled necklaces, as well as her love of a finely crafted blade.

"You saw that did you?" she blushed a little, her hand scratching her head awkwardly.

"Eleanor, I think we all saw it, even Morrigan. You know, I think I saw her smile when you slapped him," Leliana giggled, causing the other woman to join in.

"Well how was I supposed to know that he… you know…" she stumbled over her words. "Maker Leliana, what do I do? I mean, don't get me wrong, he's handsome and all, I just… I'm not used to people liking me for me. Normally I'm a potential wife – well until I decide to annoy my mother and walk around in my armour." She laughed, "_A lady is never seen in public with a hair out of place, let alone covered in sweat and wearing armour_. Maker she was annoying when she was like that…" she trailed off, her laughter dying with it. The loss of her family was still fresh in her heart, stabbing deep whenever she thought about it for too long. They had saved her life that day as had Duncan.

Leliana placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. They sat like that for a while, in silence, Leliana comforting Eleanor. Everyone in camp knew enough of Eleanor's story to know that mentioning her family was a touchy subject. Sometimes she would become terribly maudlin and her party would leave her alone, lest her grief turn to fury. It often followed regardless, as her thoughts and memories tended to trigger it. As soon as she thought of the traitorous Howe she would have to excuse herself while she hacked at some poor tree until she had calmed down enough to be around other people.

As usual, her grief began to warp. Happy memories of her mother and father turned to the sight she saw as she fled her home, her father bleeding out as her mother tried fruitlessly to buy them more time. She excused herself, stood up and took herself and her longsword to the outskirts of their camp. No one followed her, but left her to take out her aggression on yet another poor tree.

* * *

No matter how many trees she swung at, nothing seemed to help. The hatred would never disappear until he did and he was far out of her reach – for now. She didn't know how, but she was determined to find and kill him if it was the last thing she did, Blight be damned. As her anger dissolved, so did her strength. She swung at the tree a few more times before letting her sword arm go limp. Exhausted and drained, she rested her head against the tree and began to cry softly.


	2. Chapter 2

"You know, if you keep this up all the trees will band together and come after you." His joking voice snapped her back to reality.

She stood straight, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "Maybe they should. I should be dead anyway. I don't deserve to be alive." She dropped her sword in defeat. Alistair moved closer to her, slowly, cautiously.

"Eleanor, we will kill him. That I swear to you. And he will rot in hell for all eternity for what he did to you and your family." She looked at his face and saw a passion in his eyes she had never seen before. He was the only one among their companions who know everything that had transpired in Highever on that fateful day. He knew the pain of betrayal and the loss at the hands one so trusted. He knew what she was going through, just as she knew what he was going through. "Eleanor…" he waited until she looked at him. He stood with his arms open and she gladly fell into them, her earlier anger at him and Howe gone. They stayed there a while, his arms wrapped around her, comforting her. After a while Alistair spoke again, "I really am sorry about the whole…staring…thing, you know. I didn't mean it in a bad way, I swear. I just, I can't help but get caught up staring at you sometimes. It's honestly not as creepy as I'm making it sound. It's just, you're so beautiful and when I look at you I can't help but wonder how despite all this despair and ugliness you manage to keep on shining."

Eleanor looked up at him then. "Alistair? What's brought this on?" She wondered if he was saying these things to make her feel better. Surely that was the most plausible explanation.

"This Blight, it's taking everything pure from the world and corrupting it. I'd hate it if you got corrupted too."

She laughed and he looked at her confused. "In case you forgot, it's already corrupting me," she explained, "Grey Warden remember."

"I didn't mean it that way," he said, his face serious. "Don't let it break you. You have enough to contend with as it is."

"Well," she began, "if I have you here to provide me with such good hugs, I'm sure I'll cope." She rested her head on his chest again and they stood there, content. Eventually she spoke again, "We'd better get back to camp. They'll think we're up to no good if we're not careful." She looked up at him with a mischievous grin. When he began to blush she laughed and moved out of his arms. She took his hand in hers, stroked the back of it with her thumb, then released it and picked up her sword. They headed back to camp together, Eleanor's mood significantly brighter than when she had stormed off.

When they returned to camp, Morrigan had finished preparing supper and was ladling it into bowls for everyone. They all took a bowl and ate quietly, Alistair and Eleanor eating their stew significantly faster than the others. When they were all finished, Eleanor cleared her throat and announced to the group that she was turning in for the night and that Sten should take first watch. He nodded his consent. Content, she entered her tent and began stripping off her armour. She noted that it needed a good cleaning and tried to remember when the last time it had been cleaned was. _Ostagar? Surely it's not been that long. _She piled it in the corner of her tent, deciding it could wait until morning. She threw off her underclothes and climbed into her bed roll exhausted. She'd had a peculiar day and that was saying something given her how odd her days tended to be now. She'd gone from thinking Alistair hated her to her temporarily hating him to finding out he liked her, all in the space of one conversation. And she'd slapped him, Maker, why did that seem like a good idea at the time? _I really need to control my temper. Father always said I was a little firebrand. _She sighed and rolled onto her side. _Father…_ Finally alone, Eleanor clutched her legs to her chest and cried herself to sleep, the bittersweet memories of her family burned into her vision.

* * *

He hadn't stayed by the fire for long after she'd gone to her tent. He needed time alone to process what had happened. She had thought he was staring daggers at her when in fact he had been staring at her shapely curves. She had thought he didn't like her when in fact it was quite the opposite. She had hacked yet another tree to pieces and he had comforted her afterwards…and she had accepted it. Rather gladly, from what he'd seen. _Does she…like me too? _His heart swelled with joy at the possibility that she may feel for him as he did for her. He reached into his tunic and retrieved a rose from his breast pocket. He stroked its petals gently before placing in the top of his backpack. _Not yet Alistair. You need to be sure first._

* * *

His dreams were different that night. Normally, visions of Darkspawn filled his mind. That night, he dreamt of Darkspawn, only something was different. This time he was fighting an endless army of them, as soon as one fell another two took its place. He carried on fighting for what felt like forever until a bright light sent the Darkspawn scattering. Blinded, he tried to regain his vision. When at last he could see again he saw a figure growing out of the light. He looked more closely and noticed an armoured figure slashing its way through the sea of Darkspawn. It cut down anything in its way with a fury he was sure he'd seen before. As the figure approached Alistair, it removed its helmet. A cascade of bright red hair unfurled from underneath the helmet and Alistair suddenly noticed that the armour was more fitted than a man's. _Eleanor. _She strode forward until she stood in front of him. She offered her hand to him, her eyes shining like emeralds at him, her fair skin seeming to glisten in the light. He took it gladly and pulled her into his arms, kissing her passionately, the Darkspawn long forgotten.

He sat bolt upright in his bedroll, sweating and heart pounding wildly. He panted heavily as he tried to remember how to breathe. When he managed to breathe somewhat normally again he noticed a certain part of him had woken up. He groaned, torn between dealing with it and waiting for it to go away. A voice sounded directly outside his tent, "Alistair? You awake?"

_Wait it is. _"Yeah, one moment," he said while scrambling around to find his shirt. He popped his head out of the tent and was greeted by the very woman he had been dreaming about. "Eleanor!" he jumped in surprise, hitting his head on a tent pole. "What brings you here?"

She looked at him puzzled, "We're moving on soon. Get dressed and pack up your tent." Struggling for words he nodded and scrambled back inside his tent, making sure not to hit his head again. Once his problem had gone down, he dressed quickly, placed the rose back against his breast, then packed up his tent and re-joined the rest of his companions who were waiting impatiently for him. All packed up they carried on their way to Redcliffe to see Arl Eamon.


	3. Chapter 3

Things hadn't gone quite to plan at Redcliffe. As they'd feared, the Arl was indeed ill with some unknown disease, but that was the least of their worries. An army of undead had been attacking the village so before they could help the Arl they had helped defend the village from the horde of skeletons that attacked them at night. The battle was made easier with the aid of the extra fighters Eleanor had rounded up and the barrels of oil they used to set the skeletons of fire with. Once it was over, Bann Teagan, who it turned out was Alistair's uncle, awarded Eleanor with a helm for her heroic efforts and asked to talk with her and her companions in private. He revealed that he had a way into the Arl's castle that they could use to meet him inside and begin their attempts to save the Arl. Unfortunately, things were just as bad inside the castle. Skeletons roamed the halls and it quickly became obvious that magic was involved. Their suspicions were confirmed when they found the mage responsible for the Arl's illness locked in the dungeons. Despite his pleas that he didn't create the monsters, they left him in the dungeons to decide his fate when everything else was wrapped up. They left his cell door unlocked with the option for him to come and help them available, but he seemed reluctant to move from his cell so they left him there. Eventually they found Bann Teagan again, with the Arl's wife and son, playing the jester to entertain the young boy. The group quickly realised that the boy was possessed by a demon and he had raised the skeletons. Knowing they had to act quickly, Eleanor weighed up her options.

"The usual was to deal with an abomination is to… cut off its head. I must say, I am unwilling to kill a child, but if there is no other option then…" she played with her hands awkwardly. She did not want to kill a child, but was the only way she knew how to kill an abomination.

"There is another way." Everyone's heads turned to look at Jowan, the mage who everyone presumed had stayed in his cell for safety. He proposed another solution, one which Alistair felt strongly against: blood magic.

Once she had heard everything from Jowan and Lady Isolde - the Arl's wife and the boy's mother - had offered her life for the spell, Eleanor asked for a few minutes alone to decide how they should proceed. _I don't want to kill a child, but I'm reluctant to turn to blood magic. Isolde is willing to die for her son though, so it's not like we'd be killing someone who isn't prepared to die. The only other way to get enough power for the spell is go to go the Circle, but we don't know how long the Arl can last and it's quite a trek there, we'd never make it there and back in time. Plus, we don't know if they'd even help us. I guess that only leaves on option…_

She returned to the main hall and told them her decision. As Jowan, Isolde and Morrigan – who had been forced into going on Eleanor's behalf – prepared, Eleanor became very aware of a pair of eyes boring into her back. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Alistair looking, no glaring, at her. _Shit, _she thought, _he's gonna kill me later. _

The spell didn't take long to work and Jowan paced nervously as the group waited for Morrigan to reawaken and tell them how things went. After around an hour, Morrigan began to stir and muttered _T'is done_. Bann Teagan ran upstairs to check on the boy who had reawakened completely unaware of what had transpired. The rest of the day had been spent gathering the dead and burning them on pyres. The entire time Alistair had refused to speak to Eleanor, choosing to spend his time with Leliana instead of her. When they were done, they returned to the castle to speak with Teagan who asked them to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes to heal the Arl who had not awoken, but not died either. They agreed and headed west, to the city of Denerim, to find a scholar who was studying the Urn.

When night fell, they made camp. Once the tents were erected, Alistair finally approached Eleanor. "Now that we're back at camp, I want to talk about what happened at Redcliffe." Eleanor tried to interrupt, but he continued talking, "You let Lady Isolde sacrifice herself? With blood magic? How could you do that?"

"So you think I should have killed an innocent child instead, do you?" she snapped back.

Apparently her answer wasn't good enough for him, "We could have gone to the Circle of Magi. We could have tried harder. We should have tried something that didn't involve blood magic, that's for sure. This is the Arl's son we're talking about here. What do you think he'll say when we revive him?"

"He'll see it was for the greater good Alistair, that there were larger things at stake here." _Why is he so worked up about this? He knows that Grey Wardens are open to using blood magic. Is he so stuck in his old Templar ways that he can't see this was for the greater good? _

"I just don't know how you could do it, how you could make that decision. I owe the Arl more than this," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Eleanor lowered her voice to a soft tone, trying to calm him, "Alistair, I honestly did the best I could."

His shoulders relaxed and his voice calmed, "You're right, of course you're right. I'm such an ass. I should know better than to second guess you like this." He sighed, "Why am I getting on your back about it? You did what you had to. It's just…all this death… Never mind. Let's just stop there before I do more than put my foot in my mouth like an idiot". Eleanor opened her mouth to say something, but he walked over to his tent and climbed inside before she could say anything.

Disheartened, she went to the fire and began poking at it with a stick, trying to find something to take her mind off Alistair. "He'll come around. Give him time," Leliana's familiar voice made Eleanor stop playing with the fire.

"Will he? You didn't see the hatred in his eyes Leliana." She resumed her poking at the fire, not wanting to keep talking.

A hand yanked the stick from Eleanor's hand and threw it into the fire. "Yes I did. He was with me all day, remember. He's angry, but he won't stay angry. Trust me."

When morning broke, they packed up and carried on their way to Denerim. They encountered a few groups of Darkspawn and bandits, but they were easily dealt with. Alistair barely spoke to Eleanor all day. Deciding it was time to make peace, she approached him when they'd stopped for a quick rest. She retrieved an item from her pack and walked over to Alistair, determined to make amends. He was busy rummaging in his pack when she approached him, so she cleared her throat to get his attention. When he looked up at her, she held out her hand expectantly to him. When he didn't take it she tsked, took his hand and placed the object in her hand into his, then wrapped his fingers around it.

"What is this?" he asked, puzzled.

Eleanor sighed, "If you open your hand and look you'll find out." He did as instructed. In his hand was an amulet with a woman's portrait in the middle. It was old and looked like it had been repaired, but he still recognised it immediately.

"This is my mother's amulet. It has to be. But why isn't it broken? Where did you find it?" he looked at her stunned.

Eleanor played with her hands guiltily, "In Redcliffe castle, in the Arl's study. I saw it on his desk and I recognised it from your descriptions of it."

"Oh, the Arl's study? Then he must have… found the amulet after I threw it at the wall. And he repaired it and kept it? I don't understand. Why would he do that?" he looked at the amulet in his hands, his confusion etched onto his face.

"I don't know. Maybe be meant to give it back to you. Maybe you mean more to him than you think Alistair."

"I…guess you might be right. We never really talked about much and then the way I left…Thank you. I mean it, I…thought I'd lost this to my own stupidity. I'll need to talk to him about this if he recovers from his condition – _when_ he recovers that is. I wish I'd had this a long time ago. Did you remember me mentioning it? Wow. I'm more used to people not really listening when I go on about things." He looked at Eleanor, his anger replaced with love and awe.

She moved closer to Alistair, her voice soft, "Of course I remembered Alistair. You're special to me," she placed a hand on his arm and let it linger there.

Alistair put the Amulet around his neck then tucked it under his armour. "Thank you Eleanor. Really, this means a lot to me. I just wish I had some way of showing you how much this means to me." He seemed to mull something over for a second before reaching towards his armour plate, then pulling back his hand. Whatever he had thought, he didn't seem to think it was a good idea. Before either of them could say anything else, Morrigan began shouting at them that they should stop wasting time with their inane prattling and start walking again. Not wanting to annoy the mage any more than normal, they re-joined the group and carried on walking to Denerim.


	4. Chapter 4

Eleanor quickly realised that the quest ahead of them would be far more complicated than she originally thought. Perhaps it was naïve to think that not everyone would be mid-crisis when she went to ask for their help, but she liked to think it was being hopeful and not naïve. When they'd found the scholar Brother Genetivi's home, he wasn't there and his assistant turned out to be dead and replaced by some lunatic cultist. They did however find out where the Brother had headed, so they decided to wrap up their business in Denerim and head off to the elusive village of Haven. They booked a few rooms in the local tavern then went out to the market to restock their supplies. They would set off for Haven in the morning, deciding that they had earned at least one night's rest in a real bed.

Most of them had rooms to themselves, since the tavern wasn't too full. Unfortunately for Sten – or perhaps his roommate – he had been elected to guard the group's newest addition: an assassin named Zevran. He had ambushed the group while travelling and tried to kill them. Of course, he'd failed miserably and only survived because Eleanor thought it a good idea to interrogate him before killing him. Somehow he managed to not only charm his way around being killed, but he'd even managed to convince Eleanor to let him accompany them on their mission. In dire need of more help, she accepted, but now the group were wary. After all, he had tried to kill them once already. So for safety, they had put him with Sten. The Qunari giant was intimidating enough to stop even the most determined of men and that was exactly what Zevran was. Even when bound and bloody on the floor, he had still flirted with just about everyone present, including Alistair which caused him to turn bright red from embarrassment and shock.

Once everyone had restocked, they met up in the main room of the tavern and enjoyed a night of freedom to drink and dance. Morrigan and Sten sat in near silence as the rest of the group drank and swapped stories. Once Zevran discovered how easily Alistair blushed, he made it his mission to see how long it took him to break and run away with his fingers in his ears. After the third story – and fourth glass of wine – Leliana decided to join in his game and began sharing stories from her Bard days in Orlais. Surprisingly, Alistair didn't run to his room – although he did turn away with his fingers in his ears, singing very loudly to block out the noise. To the rogues' surprise Eleanor turned just as red as Alistair did, her cheeks matching the flaming red of her locks. After a particularly detailed story Eleanor downed her drink in one then excused herself with a set of stammered, unfinished excuses. Alistair followed her lead shortly after and retreated to his room as well. Or so he thought.

He opened the door to his room and rushed in, anxious to have a little privacy. However, he quickly realised he wasn't in his room when he saw Eleanor sat in front of the fire in her night clothes. She was radiant: her long red hair resembling the fire before her; her emerald eyes sparkled like their counterparts; her pale skin was flushed from the rogues' stories, leaving her cheeks with a rosy tint. She suddenly realised her door was open and covered herself as best as she could, her nightwear being practical to sleep in but not to provide a lot of modesty as well. "Alistair!" she shrieked in shock, "What are you doing in my room?"

He opened and closed his mouth repeatedly before finally answering, "Y-y-your room? But I thought… Oh Maker, I'm next door aren't I? Sorry, I guess I was busy trying to block out the…" he shuddered, "you know."

She moaned internally. _Maker yes I know what you're talking about. Now leave me to think about it. Alone, _she thought. Little did Alistair know that her blush was not due to embarrassment, but arousal. He also did not know that as he had walked in she had been imagining the two of them in some of the scenarios that Zevran and Leliana had talked about. "Well don't just stand there, if you're coming in, come in," she said, praying desperately that her fantasies were about to be made real.

He stammered an agreement and closed the door, then stood awkwardly by the door. Eleanor sighed and beckoned for him to join her by the fire, teasing him by saying, "I don't bite you know. Well, not much." At that he swallowed the lump in his throat and tried not to notice how much her nightwear revealed. Like how he could see her breasts pushed teasingly together by her crossed arms. Or how he could see that she wasn't wearing any underwear. He sat down next to her and played with his hands awkwardly, not knowing what to do with them. "They got you too eh? I must say, that was terribly wicked of them. I think Zevran was trying to assess how much of a challenge he'd have with us if he tried to sleep with us."

"Well he can keep his hands to himself. I'm not interested. I mean, he's a man. How would that – I don't – it's not happening," he crossed his arms stubbornly.

Deciding to test the waters, Eleanor asked, "But what about Leliana? She was telling some rather…revealing stories as well."

Alistair barked with laughter, clearly amused at the idea of him and Leliana together. "More revealing than that nightdress of yours you mean?" Eleanor looked down and crossed her arms and legs for show of mock horror, "Sorry, it's hard not to notice. And you know I'm not interested in Leliana. It's you I'm interested in and I really can't concentrate right now. Seriously, do you have something else to out on over that?" She shook her head and apologised, claiming that all her clothes were too dirty to be worn right now.

"I can get under the bed covers if that'd make you feel more comfortable," she proposed. She stood up only to have Alistair grab her wrist and pull her back down, his cheeks flushed pink. Desperate to control his blushing, he pushed aside his shyness and stripped off his shirt. He handed it to Eleanor and she quickly pulled it over her head. It helped hide her sufficiently enough for him to look at her. Suddenly panic set in, "Hmm, you've left something in the pocket Alistair." Before he could come up with a reason not to, she had taken out the item in the breast pocket and was staring at it open-mouthed. "Alistair, why do you have a rose in your pocket? Is this your new weapon of choice?" she joked, though her eyes betrayed her and revealed the hope she was concealing.

"Yes, watch as I thrash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements!" he swung dramatically in the air, pretending to brandish a sword, "Feel my thorns, Darkspawn! I will overpower you with my rosy scent!" He looked at her seriously again, "I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking 'How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?' I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn't. The Darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. So I've had it ever since. I've been wanting to give it to your for a while, I just didn't know when was a good time. In a lot of ways, I think the same when I look at you, how surely it's impossible for such beauty to exist in such a dark world."

Eleanor took his hand in hers and looked into his eyes as she spoke, "It's a lovely sentiment Alistair. I don't know what to say."

"I'm glad you like it. I was just thinking… here I am doing all this complaining, and you haven't exactly been having a good time of it yourself. Not just because of what happened with your family, but because you've had none of the good experience of being a Grey Warden since your Joining, not a word of thanks of congratulations. It's all been death and fighting and tragedy. I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this…darkness." A tear trickled down Eleanor's cheek and he caught it with thumb, then let his hand rest on her cheek. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She sniffed and closed her eyes, "I don't deserve a guy like you. I deserve a guy more like who I was supposed to marry, someone who'll set me up for life but not give two shits about me because I'm just there for show. You're so kind and caring and strong and I'm none of those. I'm not strong. It's all an act as you've seen. I'm broken. You don't want someone broken, you want someone who's good for you."

His hand moved from her cheek to lightly grip her chin. He urged her to look at him and waited until she did before speaking, "Eleanor, _you_ are good for me. I'm only strong because _you_ make me strong. I don't want anyone else. I want _you_." He leaned in and kissed her lips softly, taking her by surprise. When he pulled back the hope he saw flickering in her eyes previously had now been unleashed, lighting up her face. He removed his hand from her chin and tried to sit back, but was stopped by a set of arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him into another, more passionate kiss. His own arms flailed by his sides for a second before he settled them on her back and pulled her closer to him, settling into the kiss. They stayed like that for a while, lips locked together, neither one wanting to end the kiss. Eventually though, the need for air won out and they separated, though they kept their arms firmly around the other. He gazed down at her, love and adoration clear in his eyes, "Maker's breath, but you're beautiful. I am a lucky man." He kissed her forehead tenderly then sat back, "and I must say, you look beautiful in my shirt.

A wicked smile crossed Eleanor's lips, "I'd look even better out of it Alistair." He blushed brightly which made her laugh. Her hand stroked his cheek, "Sorry, it was too good an opportunity to miss." A sudden realisation struck her. _Andraste's knickers, surely not…_ She gasped unintentionally and Alistair looked at her puzzled. "Are you…a virgin Alistair?"

"I – I am, yes. I was raised in the Chantry remember. Don't think I haven't thought about… you know, but…living in the Chantry is not exactly a life for rambunctious boys. They taught me to be a gentleman, especially in the presence of beautiful women such as yourself. That's not so bad is it?"

She smiled at him reassuringly, "I guess that makes two of us then," Alistair's smiled at that. "I thought about it plenty of times, but once I became old enough to marry my mother practically had me in a chastity belt to keep me 'pure' for my future husband. Of course this was before she realised that my purity was not going to be the thing to stop men from marrying me of course. My skills as a warrior worked better than any chastity belt: the sight of me in armour alone would put off the prissy noblemen who could barely hold an argument, let alone a blade. I did…try…it…once, but Fergus caught me and threatened to tell mother and father, so I never tried anything again after that." She looked away, "I am however, willing to try with you, if you want to that is."

Alistair put his hand on her cheek and turned her face so she was looking at him, "I want to Eleanor, I do. I just… not yet, I'm not ready. Trust me, you'll know when I am, probably before I do. Women always seem to know everything before I – " he was cut off by a finger over his lips, shushing him.

"You're rambling," said Eleanor, removing her finger. She stood up and held out her hand in invitation, "Come on. Let's go to bed."

"Eleanor, I –" he began.

"Relax, I'm not meaning sex. Just, sleep with me. In the same bed I mean, not…you know. Maker this is coming out wrong. Just take my hand Alistair," she took his hand before he could answer and pulled him up so they were both standing. Eleanor walked over to the bed, taking off Alistair's shirt as she went so she was left in her nightwear again, making sure to take the rose out of the pocket. She placed it on the nightstand then climbed under the covers. She threw open the other side of the covers and patted the space beside her invitingly. Giving in, Alistair walked over to join her, shaking his head but chuckling to himself.

_Maker help me in the morning, _he thought. Deciding to tackle that hurdle when he reached it, he climbed into bed with her opened his arms in invitation. Eleanor eagerly snuggled against his bare chest and he wrapped his arms around her. His worry completely disappeared as he looked down at the woman in his arms drifting off to sleep, a smile on her lips. _You should smile more often Eleanor, it suits you much more than anger does. _


	5. Chapter 5

She walked the halls of the castle barefoot, following the trail of blood down its path. The further she walked, the more blood there was and soon there became too much to avoid stepping in it. She kept walking until at last the blood seemed to lead to a large wooden door. Gingerly, she opened it. Before her lay a sight she had seen many times before: bleeding out on the floor lay her father, her mother crouched over him weeping. Behind her a familiar voice called out to her, "It's your turn next little Cousland." She whipped her head round in time to see Arl Howe slash his blade across her throat.

She sat bolt upright in bed, clutching at her throat. A pair of arms wrapped around her and she thrashed against them, scared that Howe was trying to finish the job once again. "Eleanor, it's me_. Eleanor!_" Suddenly realising the voice was not Howe's, she stopped fighting the arms that held her.

"He's coming for me. Please, don't let him get me!" she shouted frantically. A hand began rubbing small, calming circles on her back as she chanted to herself _He's coming for me. _

Alistair looked down at the terrified woman in his arms. "It's ok, it's not real. It's only a dream," he said over and over, trying to comfort her. He knew it wouldn't work, but he had to try and calm her down. He didn't know for sure what she had been dreaming about, but he had a feeling he could guess. Ever since he had met her, Eleanor had had trouble sleeping, even if she wouldn't admit it. When he was on watch duty he would hear her jump awake in the night, screaming, shouting, sobbing. Eventually he would hear her fall back to sleep when his shift was almost done a few hours later, her sobs finally quietening when she fell to sleep.

"It's not," she sniffled into his chest, "it's real. I can't let it be real, I can't! I have to change it…" she trailed off, her sniffling turning into sobs. Alistair held her helplessly, not knowing how to comfort her. "I failed them. I should have stayed and fought with them. I shouldn't have left them there to die at his hand!"

"Now listen to me Eleanor," he grabbed the tops of her arms so he could make her look at him, "you did not fail anyone. You did everything you could have possibly done and wishing you could go and change it will change nothing." His voice softened, "Believe me, you're not the only one with regrets. I constantly wonder if there was something I could do to save Duncan, but I know that I can't because…he's gone."

Eleanor blinked a few times then stared at Alistair's face puzzled. "Alistair? Oh thank the Maker!" She flung her arms around his neck, "I was so scared. I –"

A banging on the door cut her off mid-sentence. "Eleanor! Eleanor, open up!" Before she could answer the door swung open, revealing a very flustered Leliana and an unamused Morrigan. "Oh praise Andraste!" said Leliana, sighing with relief.

"See? She's fine. Now let's leave them be and go back to sleep," Morrigan grumbled as she turned to go back to go her room.

Leliana ignored her , instead choosing to ask Eleanor, "Are you alright? I heard you screaming."

"I'm fine, really. I was just dreaming Leliana. Go back to bed." Leliana opened her mouth to speak, but she cut her off, "Alistair's looking after me, I swear I'll be fine. Go back to bed," she said in her best leader voice. Seemingly convinced, Leliana shut the door again, leaving Eleanor and Alistair alone again. "I screamed?" She asked quietly, the brave leader suddenly gone.

"I – well, yes, a little," she hung her head, "but it's ok." He wanted to end it there, but the look on her face begged him to tell her what else she had said. "You did also shout a few things over and over. Something about Howe coming after you and how you think you failed them," he finished reluctantly. Deciding to act before things got worse he said, "Hey, don't think about it now, we have to be up in a few hours. Come lie back down." Before she could object he pulled her back down so she was lying in bed and pulled the covers over the two of them. Giving in she sighed and snuggled back against his chest. He stroked her hair calmingly until she began to drift off to sleep. When he thought she was finally asleep he whispered, "I'd never let anyone hurt you Eleanor. I love you too much to do that." He kissed her head then carried on stroking her hair, determined not to fall asleep in case she woke up again.

* * *

No one mentioned the incident in the morning, so Eleanor never brought it up, instead deciding to wear her fearless leader mask like normal. They did however, mention the mysterious appearance of Alistair in her room – and bed Morrigan wickedly added – and the spent the rest of the trip to Haven speculating about what had happened. Alistair, much to his own demise, did not help the speculations by blushing wildly whenever one of the suggestions became too rude for his poor innocent mind. Eleanor, however, took them all on the chin and responded to them with nonchalance and _I'll never tell_s. Both she and Alistair knew exactly what had happened in her room that night, and yet it had left them possibly more confused than ever.

It took them just over a week to reach Haven. They stopped only when necessary and made short work of any Darkspawn they encountered. Despite his constant innuendo, Zevran did pull his weight in the fights, much to Alistair's displeasure. Out of everyone, he was the most open with his distaste for the assassin. "I just don't understand how you can trust him!" he moaned for the millionth time. "He tried to kill us, or have you forgotten that?"

Eleanor sighed. "Alistair, I am well aware that he tried to kill us. However, he failed, did he not? Under normal circumstances I'd have killed him, but we need all the help we can get if we're gonna have any chance of beating this Blight." Like after every discussion about him, she hoped that this was finally going to be the last time he vocalised his disapproval.

"Still, if there were a sign that we're desperate, this is it," he said before shutting up about it for the rest of the journey.

* * *

Haven had proved to be like the rest of their missions so far: complicated and messy. The village was full of cultists who the group had accidently angered by exploring their homes and finding evidence of the villager's murderous activities. Unfortunately, this had led to the group having to kill every member of the village once they all turned on them and attacked them. Finally free to explore in peace, they found the missing Brother Genetivi locked in a secret room in the village Chantry. They patched him up then followed him to a mountain passage that revealed a hidden temple, long since forgotten – or so it seemed. Inside the snow-covered temple were a group of dragon cultists who were convinced that Andraste had risen and taken form in a High Dragon. Like the villagers before them, the cultists met their end once they too turned hostile and attacked the group.

They carried on towards Andraste's resting place, sneaking past the High Dragon, until they reached the Gauntlet. Upon arrival they were greeted by a Guardian who blocked their path until they answered his questions. When he quizzed Eleanor, he asked her if she thought she failed her parents, to which she answered, "Of course I do. I should have fought with them, but if I had stayed there then the world wouldn't know of Howe's crimes." He moved onto Alistair, who claimed he should have taken Duncan's or Cailan's place at Ostagar. Next was Morrigan's turn. She refused to play the Guardian's games and so the Guardian moved onto Zevran, who knew his question before it was asked. He cut off the Guardian before he could finish asking his question, stating that he did indeed regret the death and ended the conversation there. At that, the Guardian disappeared and let the group pass into the Gauntlet.

Although it was challenging, the group progressed through the Gauntlet with speed, making short work of the riddles – Eleanor excelling at them, her childhood games coming into play to help them – and the battles with themselves. Before the battle an apparition of Bryce Cousland, Eleanor's father, appeared to the group. To their surprise, Eleanor stepped forward, shoulders back, and spoke to him, "I know you are not my father. I watched him die at the hands of a traitor. Why do you mock the image of him?"

"Pup, you know that I am gone, and that all your prayers and wishes will not bring me back. I know you miss me, but my death, and my life, should no longer have a hold on you. This is how it should be. Set your eyes on the horizon, do not look back, and do not falter. You have such a long journey ahead of you, and you must be prepared. And so I leave this in your hands…I know you will do great things with it." And with that he disappeared. A single tear ran down Eleanor's cheek as she looked down at the object he had placed in her hands: an amulet with a mirrored back. She looked into the mirrored surface and swore she saw her mother and father smiling up at her, but then she blinked and it was plain silver again. She hung the amulet around her neck then signalled for the others to carry on.

The Gauntlet tested them further, presenting them with a bridge puzzle that provided Morrigan with more ammunition to use against Alistair's intelligence. Once they crossed the bridge, their only remaining obstacle was an altar and wall of fire. As instructed, the group laid their armour and weapons on the altar and walked through the fire in just their smalls. When they reached the other side the Guardian reappeared and congratulated them. He allowed them to take a pinch of ashes, which they did. Finally done, they redressed and began the trek back to where they came in, where Brother Genetivi stood waiting for them. They wrapped up their business with him then went to re-join the rest of their party at the foot of the mountain.

They decided to set out to Redcliffe Castle in the morning, the idea of sleep much more desirable than the walk to Redcliffe. Morrigan was set the duty of tending to any injuries while Leliana prepared supper. The rest of the group entertained themselves as best as they could: Zevran resumed his tormenting of Alistair, providing graphic supplements for what could have transpired between he and Eleanor; Sten sat at the edge of camp sharpening his blade; Eleanor sat by the fire pretending to be interested in Leliana's stories, looking into the back of the amulet around her neck.

"You haven't heard a single word I've said have you. Eleanor? _Eleanor!"_ Leliana's lilting Orlesian accent snapped her back to attention.

She looked at the bard confused, "Sorry, I was miles away." She looked at the amulet one final time before tucking it under her shirt.

"That's new," said Leliana, pointing towards the amulet Eleanor had just stashed under her tunic shirt, "Care to share the story?" She put the lid on the stew pot and sat next to Eleanor, waiting for her to speak.

She chuckled and shook her head, knowing it was better to just tell her and get it over with so she'd go away. "When we went through the Gauntlet, we faced many tests. The very first was a simple question about our deepest regrets – no prizes for guessing what mine is. Later on in the Gauntlet a spirit imitating my father appeared to me and told me to let go of my past feelings and move on, then he gave me this. I swear, if I look at the amulet the right way I can see my parents smiling back at me." When she was done she looked to Leliana who smiled at her then went to check on supper.

Eleanor stayed sat by the fire and watched a very irritated Alistair put his shirt back on and walk very quickly away from Morrigan's space. "Your turn to deal with the ice queen," joked Alistair. "You know, I swear she makes sure it hurts when she treats me." He pecked her on the cheek before letting her go to see Morrigan. She was relatively unscathed from the day's adventures, bar the usual cuts that decorated her skin and a few mild burns from the mages' spells. Still, Morrigan tended to her wounds so she was fully healthy again. As normal, she spoke little. However, unlike normal, she chose to use the opportunity to talk to Eleanor about Alistair. "Do you realise that you've been smiling all day? Since the last time you and that fool, Alistair, shot glances at each other, in fact. He must be pleasant enough in bed, for surely I cannot imagine anyone enduring his conversation."

"In bed…? Maker you think we've –? Is this because of the other morning, because we didn't do anything…like that. We just shared a bed," she stammered, though in her mind she added _Unfortunately. _

Morrigan stopped sending healing magic into Eleanor and scoffed, "Of course. Because you two sharing a bed was innocent. As are the displays of affection you insist on making us all watch. T'is a bit sickening to watch you two, but I imagine it at least takes your mind from our…situation. Have it your way."

At that she shooed Eleanor from her space and retreated to her tent, only emerging when Leliana called for supper. After supper Eleanor and Alistair went to what was now their tent and exhausted from the day's trials, fell straight to sleep in each other's embrace.


	6. Chapter 6

By some miracle, the ashes worked and Arl Eamon woke up with no recollection of what had happened to him. Bann Teagan told him of everything that had transpired while he was unconscious, then Arl Eamon called for his champions to meet with him. He informed them of his plan to call a Landsmeet to take down Loghain. But first they would need to rally their armies, so he told them to spend a few days with him in celebration, then continue on their quest afterwards. Eleanor pretended to be torn about losing a few days of travel, but inside she was cheering, glad to have a few days in a comfy bed with someone else cooking food that wasn't mystery stew.

Living in the Arl's castle reminded Eleanor of her life as a noble woman: servants waiting on her hand and foot; food was brought to her at any hour of the day (something she was now glad of with her Grey Warden appetite); baths were a part of her daily routine, not a luxury, and the water was piping hot instead of freezing cold. Part of her yearned to get her old life back, but the more time she spent at the Arl's castle, the more she realised she enjoyed life on the road just as much. Sure the food wasn't as nice and she missed having baths in _hot_ water, but she had finally been given the chance to go out into the world and be more than just a future wife.

The Arl had kindly given each member of the group their own room, Morrigan's being as far away from everyone else's as possible. This had raised the subject of Alistair and Eleanor when the ex-templar had taken Eamon aside to have a word with him. "Erm, Eamon, can I have a word please?" he nodded and led him to a quieter corner of the hall. "It's just, Eleanor and I are, well, I don't fully know, but anyway. Lately she and I have taken to sharing a bed and so we're going to need our own room. Together," he said quickly, staring at his hands the entire time and blushing slightly.

"Alistair, I hardly think that's proper, especially given her upbringing," said Eamon, "and furthermore, I don't want to or need to know about your love life."

Alistair opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to answer and failing miserably. Finally he managed to answer, "You think we – I can see how but – I think I need to explain. Yes we're romantically involved, but no we're not…sharing a bed, well not in _that _way anyway." He sighed, struggling for the right words, "She has nightmares about her parents' deaths. I stay with her on a night to help her sleep. It's innocent."

"For now. Fine, I won't have the poor woman lose sleep on my watch, just don't blame me if people talk," he said, before heading off to make the changes to the bedroom arrangements.

* * *

He was going to do it. He had never felt more ready. Or scared. He decided he was going to ask her after the banquet in their honour that evening. He didn't really know much more after that apart from they kiss, they get naked, they have sex. _Maker_, _I hope there's more to it than that. _He'd asked the servants to prepare their room while they were at the banquet; he wanted it to be perfect for both of them.

Eleanor had showed little interest in the banquet. After spending a lot of her life at them, they simply bored her. This banquet was like all the others: a group of stuffy nobles gathered together to eat a lot of food and celebrate some trivial matter. Of course, she had to show some sort interest in this banquet since it was in her honour. She put on her mask - a glazed face that wore a false smile which never quite reached her eyes - not that anyone noticed. Banquets were always an excuse for other noble families to eye her up as a potential wife. At least this one was an exception on that matter. Still, she dressed for the occasion, Leliana magically providing a dress for her that perfectly fit and flattered her form.

She'd spent the last hour being dressed by the Orlesian bard, letting her pull at her hair and paint her face in makeup. After trying four other styles, she eventually settled on leaving her hair down, swept over her shoulder to one side; she painted her lips in a shade that matched her flaming red hair. When she was at last happy with her work, Eleanor was practically sewn into the dress Leliana had bought for her – she knew she had because she'd seen her sneak off to the market the day before. She had to admit, it was beautiful: the dress was floor length with long sleeves; the material clung to her skin, accentuating her hourglass figure, something which was usually hidden under the bulk of her armour; it was made out of olive green silk that accentuated her eyes beautifully, highlighting their green hues. When Leliana was happy with her creation, she passed her a pair of shoes to go with the outfit and stepped back to admire her work. Eleanor looked in the mirror and barely recognised the woman staring back at her. She'd never looked so beautiful when she had gotten dressed up before. _Then again, I've never had a reason to dress up. _

"Fit for a king," winked Leliana. Ever since his parentage had been revealed, the group had had yet another thing to torment Alistair about.

"Well, fit for a prince. My prince," smiled Eleanor. She turned to look at Leliana, "I think tonight's the night. I don't know how, I just…know."

Leliana came up to her and made a few adjustments to her outfit, "If that's the case, then _this _is how you should go tonight." She stepped back to let her look at her work. Her cleavage had suddenly appeared to double in size. She shot a judgemental look at the bard, then shook her head and said, "Let's go down shall we."

Throughout the banquet all eyes were on Eleanor, but she didn't care. There was only one set of eyes she cared about and they never left her. But as the night dragged on, she became aware that they never left her _face_. Her heart sunk a little. _He's not interested. _Her distress apparently showed on her face, because a very smooth-talking elf appeared next to her and said, "Now why is a woman as ravishing as yourself so sad?"

She looked at him and saw a winning smile staring back at her and a set of roaming eyes travelling over her body. _That's what I want him to do. _"Sad? Who's sad? Not me, nope."

"Do you think I am a fool? I can read you like a book and I know exactly what you want…"

Alistair looked over at the pair with anger in his eyes. The elf was trying to make a move on her. _Not on her, don't you dare. _Excusing himself from the woman trying to gain his attention, he steeled himself and stormed over to the pair.

"Am I wrong to think you are beautiful?"

"Yes," interrupted Alistair. Eleanor turned around to see a very determined Alistair standing in front of the elf, dominating the very space he stood in.

Zevran looked between the two of them then said, "Well, I think it's obvious I am not needed here. I'll leave you two alone." He walked off and joined Leliana in a corner of the hall. "I told you it would work."

Eleanor stood up to meet Alistair, "What is the meaning of this?"

He allowed his eyes to rake over her body before saying, "This." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately, the fire from his eyes fuelling his kiss. His tongue teased at her lip and she gasped, surprised by his sudden boldness. His tongue found hers and began showing his dominance. She submitted willingly and joined in his dance, her tongue meeting his and duelling together.

Reluctantly, Eleanor pulled away, "Alistair, maybe we should do this later. We're hardly alone" They looked around and saw a few disgusted nobles staring at them.

Grabbing her hand, he leaned to whisper in her ear, "Then let's go somewhere private." Before she could respond he was pulling her out of the hall and towards the stairs. They practically ran to their room, Eleanor's giggling bouncing off the walls as they went. They reached their room in seemingly no time. Somewhere in the back of Alistair's mind, his old self was having a heart attack. This was so unlike him. He kicked open their bedroom door and led Eleanor in.

She stopped for a moment and stood in disbelief. The formerly dim room was now illuminated with an array of candles spread around the room; scattered on the bed and floor were red rose petals; a scented perfume wafted through the air, removing any traces of Ferelden's wet dog smell. "Alistair, you did this?" she asked, taken aback.

"I did," he said, shutting the door then taking both her hands in his and leading her to sit on the bed. "Here's the thing: being near you makes me crazy, but I can't imagine being without you. Not ever. I don't know how to say this another way. I want to spend the night with you. Here. Maybe this is too fast, but I know what I feel. I wanted to wait for the perfect time, the perfect place…but when will it be perfect? If things were, we wouldn't have met. We sort of stumbled into each other, and despite this being the least perfect time, I still found myself falling for you in between the all fighting and everything else. I really don't want to wait anymore. I've…I've never done this before, you know that. I want it to be with you though, if you'll have me, while we have the chance. In case –"

Eleanor cut him off with a kiss, "Don't talk like that, we'll make it out of this alive."

"Will we? We don't know that. I'd like to be able to say that I threw caution to the wind at least once." His hand trailed up and down her arm, before running up to cup her cheek. He kissed her tenderly, causing her to melt into him. He wrapped his arms around her and laid her down on the bed. He held himself over her as they continued to kiss, her hands wandering over his torso and fiddling with the ties on his shirt. Taking her hint, Alistair stood on his knees over her and pulled off his shirt, revealing his chiselled torso and arms.

Eleanor laid there with her mouth open. _How has he been hiding that from me? _Realising she was staring, her lips curled up in a grin, "Sweet Andraste I am a lucky woman." She ran her hands over his chest, trying not to drool. He threw his shirt on the floor then gingerly let his own hands roam Eleanor's body. They traced her sides until he reached her breasts, "And I am a lucky man". He cupped and squeezed her them, at first testing her reaction, then growing bolder and firmer as her noises of pleasure spurred him on.

Eleanor's hands suddenly stilled his. "Alistair," she said breathlessly, "maybe you should take my dress off." She looked up at him through heavy lids and before he knew it he was fumbling around with her dress, trying to find a way to take it off. Eleanor chuckled and shimmied out from underneath him so she could stand up. She moved her hair over her shoulder, "Here, unfasten it for me." He nodded wordlessly and began trying to undo the laces at the back, his shaking fingers making it harder than it should have been. Eventually he managed to undo the laces and the dress fell from Eleanor's body and pooled around her feet. She stepped out from her dress and turned to face Alistair again, a rosy tint spreading from her cheeks down past her neck.

Alistair ran his hands over her body, his eyes following hungrily. As his hands sunk lower, something registered in the back of his mind. _The little minx! She was commando at dinner. _Deciding to tease her about it later, he hooked one arm under her knees, his other arm supporting her upper back, and scooped her up into his arms to carry her back to the bed. Before joining her, he quickly removed his trousers and pants and left them with the rest of their clothes.

His hands trailed down her body, taking in every curve, before coming back up to cup her breasts. His mouth joined his hands, his lips and tongue kissing and teasing at her nipples, causing Eleanor's head to fall back in pleasure. She squirmed under him, his ministrations causing her to grow eager for more of his touch. She pushed her hips in his direction, trying to reach him. When he felt her hips grind shallowly against his, he chuckled, "Getting impatient?" His hand lowered to her crotch, "Is this what you want?" He was answered with a tortured moan as his hand hovered just above her heat. He obliged, his fingers probing curiously, his lack of experience finally showing. Still, he soldiered on, listening to Eleanor's reactions and making a mental note whenever she liked something he did.

He felt a hand working its way down his body and groaned when it wrapped around him. Eleanor pumped him a few times before moaning, "Please. I'm ready."

_Right. Show time. Shit. _He removed his hand from inside Eleanor's heat and positioned himself above her hips, propping himself up on his arms. Using her hand to guide him, Alistair slowly sunk into Eleanor. She winced a little at the pain of being stretched and filled for the first time, but he held himself still inside her until it became comfortable. When the pain passed, she nodded to him and he began moving, revelling in the sensations he experienced, her tight passage squeezing tightly around him. He thrust slowly, conscious of her mild discomfort. After a while, he noticed her discomfort had been replaced by pure pleasure, her constant moans a sure sign for him. Taking the initiative, he used a hand to raise her hips slightly, gaining him a handful of soft but firm buttock. She moaned appreciatively at the change of angle as he reached a place inside of her she didn't even know existed. Pleased with her reaction, he increased his pace slightly. She began to claw at his back, trying to find purchase in his skin. However, the longer he went, the harder he found it to hold on. In the end he didn't have to. As his pace grew more frantic, Eleanor clung onto him, a silent scream of pleasure on her lips. Her heat clamped down on him and he couldn't hold back anymore, his own release following just after hers.

When Eleanor's arms finally relaxed around him, Alistair rolled off of her to lie next to her. Instinctively, he held out his arm for her and she rested her head on his chest, her arm wrapped around his torso. They laid there together, content smiles on their faces, before Alistair finally broke the silence. "You know," he said, "according to all the sisters at the monastery, I should have been struck by lightning by now."

Eleanor trailed her hand down his chest, "After that performance? Never."

Alistair's own hand mimicked hers, trailing up and down her spine. "The rest of our little party are going to talk now aren't they?"

"Even more than they already have been?" She grinned up at him, "Besides, first smart comment and I feed them to the Darkspawn."

He grinned back at her, "You see, this is why I love you." Eleanor's grin turned into a look of happy surprise. "You know what, I'm gonna say it again: I love you Eleanor."

Grinning again, she said, "I love you too Alistair." She moved her head from his chest to kiss him tenderly. _Well who'd have thought the Blight would bring me love? Not me, that's for sure. _


	7. Chapter 7

Eleanor awoke to the bright light of curtains being drawn. She sat up in bed to complain at whoever had dared to disturb her sleep when she saw Alistair standing by the bed, placing a tray onto bedside table. "Oh, you're awake. Well there goes that surprise," he joked, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Eleanor.

She looked at the tray and her heart melted; he had brought her breakfast in bed (Grey Warden sized, of course). She sat up and kissed his cheek, "I can act surprised if you like". As she sat up the covers over her fell off of her and revealed her still naked body. Unconsciously Alistair's eyes began roving over her body, his own body betraying him by showing his interest. She giggled when she spotted the bulge forming in his trousers and began undoing the ties on them.

"Hey, I went to a lot of effort to make you breakfast," he removed her hand from his crotch and placed in on the bed next to him. Eleanor looked at him with an expression of disbelief, "Ok,I told the cook to make you breakfast and then I carried it up here, but the thought was there right? Now eat your food before I do." He sounded like he was joking, but they both knew he wasn't. Alistair suddenly wished he had thought to have his own breakfast made too and so he nipped out of their room, flagged down a servant and asked them to have a second breakfast sent up to his room. When he came back in the bedroom, Eleanor was already tucking into her breakfast.

"So," he said while swiping a piece of toast, "what do you want to do today? This is our last day to relax before we carry on gathering the army."

Eleanor calmly finished eating her breakfast, drank her tea then set the tray on the floor. Suddenly she sprang forward and grabbed Alistair's shirt, "You." She kissed him passionately and pulled him back onto the bed, her sexual appetite suddenly very hungry.

* * *

The next morning the group set off on their travels, glad to be out on the road again. Much to some of the group's annoyance, Eleanor decided to visit the elves in the Brecilian forest first, since she thought they would be the hardest to convince to help them. They were indeed difficult to convince, but not purely because they were being hostile towards the group; the elves were suffering attacks from a pack of werewolves, so naturally the only way the elves would help them was if they helped get rid of the werewolves. In the end it turned out that their Keeper had in fact caused the curse that afflicted the wolves and was now spreading to his clan. After a lot of persuasion, the Keeper agreed to lift the curse on the werewolves, ending his life in the process. When they returned to the clan the First already knew what had happened, or guessed correctly, and offered the Dalish's help against the Blight.

Once they had visited the Dalish, the group travelled west to visit the Cirle of Magi and Orzammar. They went to the Circle first, but found it in a state of emergency. Once again, the group agreed to help the Circle in exchange for soldiers. Their task seemed relatively simple: clear out the tower of any abominations and bring back the First Enchanter. Unfortunately, they quickly realised – again – that things were not going to be as easy as they'd hoped. After encountering a group of survivors – one of whom Eleanor and Alistair recognised as the elderly mage named Wynne from Ostagar – they continued further up the tower, killing any abominations in their way. It was going well until a sloth demon trapped the group in the Fade, leaving it up to Eleanor to get them out. When they finally escaped, they continued up to the top of the tower, where they encountered the leader of the rebel mages who had set the abominations free. They swiftly disposed of him, making sure to use the Litany of Adralla to save as many mages as possible, including the First Enchanter. Once the tower was reclaimed, they and the First Enchanter informed Knight–Commander Greagoir that all was safe again, and so the Circle agreed to lend their support to the Wardens.

Their last stop was at Orzamar. Eleanor and Alistair were dreading going down there, giving its ties to the Grey Wardens, but they put their fears aside for the sake of Ferelden. When they arrived the city was deadlocked. As usual, the group had to step in and help them in exchange for their traditional dwarven allies. Despite the rumours around Orzamar Eleanor decided to help Prince Behlen – the next in line to the throne – claim the crown. First she gained his trust, then she gained his promise of help…if she went and did one final seemingly impossible task for him. And so they did what Grey Wardens do best. Eleanor, Wynne, Zevran and their new companion Oghren ventured into the Deep Roads in search of the dwarven Paragon Branka – despite his arguing, Alistair had been told to stay in Orzamar, their party too large with him in it as well. They were down in the confusing tunnels of the Deep Roads for weeks, searching thaig after thaig for the smallest trace of the lost Paragon. The longer they spent down there, the more disturbed they became, the Darkspawn's taint reaching further than they had previously thought. None were more disturbed than Eleanor though, when they met a creature knows as a Broodmother and after killing the creature, they moved swiftly on until they reached the Anvil of the Void. There they found Branka and another Paragon named Caradin, a dwarf famous for his creation: the golem. Despite her better judgement, Eleanor decided to help Branka preserve the Anvil of the Void, thus meaning she had to kill Caradin. To show her thanks, Branka crafted Eleanor a crown for which ever King she chose then asked to be left in peace with the Anvil. When they returned to Orzamar a few weeks later – the Deep Roads all looked the same to Eleanor – they stood before the Assembly and announced Behlen as king. Eager to leave the stone surrounding them, they quickly wrapped up their business there then headed straight for Redcliffe.

Ever since she had left the Deep Roads, Eleanor had seemed shaken, her easy demeanour replaced by a cool indifference. She even responded differently to Alistair and it was beginning to take its toll on their blossoming relationship. When they were finally alone in Redcliffe Castle, Alistair decided to confront her.

He found her in the Arl's study, hunched over the desk. At first glance it looked like she was writing something, but then he noticed that her hand never moved, nor did it carry a quill. He looked at her face and saw her cheeks and eyes were slightly red and puffy, as if she'd been crying. He looked closer at her cheeks and saw they were damp. His heart swelled in his chest, "Eleanor? What's wrong?"

She looked up at him, "Alistair? I didn't hear you come in." She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, "Sorry, I must look terrible." Something seemed to snap inside her because she lost any composure she had regained and broke down into tears. Alistair ran over to her and pulled her into his arms, her tears soaking his shirt. Eventually, Eleanor pulled back and looked at Alistair. Her eyes were filled with so much fear he wondered what could possibly have scared her. Ever since they had become intimate, her nightmares had become more and more infrequent until at last they seemed to stop. Little did he know, the Deeps Roads had brought back her nightmares with a vengeance, as well as a new addition. "I saw my future in the Deep Roads Alistair and it terrifies me. It haunts my sleep, it haunts my thoughts, I can't not see it."

Despite being afraid to, Alistair asked, "What did you see?"

Eleanor gulped, "Do you know what a Broodmother is?"

"I've heard of them, why?"

"Have you ever noticed that you never see any female Darkspawn? That's because the only female Darkspawn are down in the depths of the Deep Roads, helping create the army. They're gigantic creatures with tentacles and that spew acid. _That's_ my future Alistair. When my Calling comes and I go into the Deep Roads to die, that's my future. That's what they'll do to me. I don't want to become that!" She threw her face back into his chest and resumed her sobbing, "Please don't let me become that! Promise me you won't let me become that!"

He stroked her hair comfortingly, wondering how he could promise her that. "I promise," he said, his mouth acting before his brain could step in. He marvelled at the sincerity in his own voice and wondered if he meant it. _Yes. I'd go to the Void and back for her. _"Come on, let's get some sleep. We leave early in the morning."


	8. Chapter 8

She stood there in shock, her jaw clenched and her hands curled into fists. In front of her were the two men she hated most in the world and she was trying desperately not grab her sword and slit their throats. She tried to focus on what Eamon and Loghain were arguing about, but all she could think of was the satisfaction she'd get from sinking her blade into Howe's throat. He saw her body language and smirked, clearly happy with the affect his presence had on her.

"…Expect no more mercy than I showed him. There is _nothing _I would not do for my homeland."

Eleanor snapped back to reality as she saw Loghain and Howe walking away from them. A hand touched her shoulder and she whipped around, her hand on the hilt of her sword. "Whoa, it's only me. I guess that answers my question then," chuckled Alistair awkwardly, his worry masked behind his smile. "You ok?"

Eleanor relaxed her hold on her sword and sighed, "Not really, but what can you do?" She smiled unconvincingly at Alistair, then turned to listen to Eamon. He told her to come and talk strategy with him when she was ready. Eleanor informed him she would be meet him shortly, then asked where the training courtyard was. He told her, despite finding her question odd, then went up to his reading room.

Hands on the hilts of her swords, Eleanor followed the Arl's directions and headed to the training yard. Knowing why she was headed there, Alistair followed her, making sure he had his own sword and shield. When he found her she was hacking away at a pair of training dummies. Their heads were already separated from their bodies, though he feared that was Eleanor's work. Deciding to be safe, he announced his presence to her, but was received with a, "Go away! I'm busy!" Feeling bold, Alistair stepped in, shield in front of him. Eleanor stopped swinging her swords temporarily, "Get out of my way Alistair, I don't want to hurt you, but I need to do this. You know that." Despite her warning, he stood his ground. He drew his sword and held his shield up, giving Eleanor a target to hit.

"Fight me," he said confidently. Testing him, Eleanor thrust at him and hit his shield. When he refused to move, she hit him again and again, until they were fighting, Alistair taking a defensive stance to allow Eleanor to unleash her anger. A few times she caught him, her swings being more that of a rogue's than a warrior's, but he merely danced out of the way then let her carry on her assault. After nearly an hour she finally began to tire, her swings becoming weaker and less accurate. Despite seeing many opportunities to do so, Alistair resisted disarming her, instead letting her instead tire herself out.

When all of the anger had drained from her, Eleanor sheathed her blades and stood panting, trying to catch her breath. "Thank you," she said, "Right, time to see Eamon."

Alistair took in Eleanor's appearance and chuckled to himself; her skin was covered in sweat and dirt. _Very ladylike. _He followed her up to Eamon's reading room. _She's not the only Grey Warden here. I think people forget that sometimes. _As he rounded the corner to Eamon's room, he heard a very angry voice shout, "This is a trick! It has to be! Do you take me for some kind of fool?"

He ran into the room and saw the source of the shouting: Eleanor. She was shouting at an unknown elf stood next to Eamon, "Why would I trust anyone who works for Loghain?"

"Because I do not work for Loghain and neither does my Queen. She suspects she cannot trust her father. And Loghain, he is very subtle, no? But Rendon Howe, he is privy to all the secrets and…not so subtle. She thinks Loghain had a hand in her husband's death, but she knows she cannot ask her father openly. So she goes to Howe. A visit from the Queen to the new Arl of Denerim is only a matter of courtesy. And she demands answers." The elf, despite being face to face with a very angry woman, kept her cool and explained herself to Eleanor.

Eleanor's anger cooled a little, turning to bitter sarcasm, "Well then I to assume that her plan didn't go as well as she thought, otherwise why would you be here?"

"Howe called her every sort of name, 'traitor' being the kindest, and locked her in the guest room."

"So let me guess, she wants our help to get her out?" _Fat chance, _she thought. Suddenly, an idea began forming in her mind. _Wait, she's in Howe's estate…Oh this is perfect! _"Ok. Fine, I'll get her out."

Everyone in the room looked at her in disbelief, including the elf. "Thank you. I have some uniforms. Arl Howe hires so many new guards every day, a few more will not cause much stir. I will show you to the servants' entrance. We must slip in and out with my Queen before anyone is the wiser. I will go ahead to Howe's estate. Meet me there as soon as you can."

Eleanor looked to the two men in the room, "If we're done here, I'm going to go. Alistair, be ready to set out later." She left the room and headed downstairs.

When they were sure she was out of earshot, Eamon turned to Alistair, "Keep a close eye on her Alistair. She agreed to help Erlina far too quickly for my liking. Don't let her do anything reckless." Alistair nodded his agreement. _What are you up to Eleanor? _

Sneaking into Howe's estate had been easier than they thought it would be, especially considering their party. Eleanor and Alistair made sure they walked around with their helmet's on, so to hide their faces; Leliana looked too delicate to be a guard, though she was a better choice than Zevran since he would have stood out even more; Morrigan wouldn't have stood out too much, had it not been for her insistence to keep her staff strapped to her back, despite it making it obvious to people she was a mage – not that anyone ever seemed to notice things like that. Still, they moved through the estate with relative ease and found Queen Anora in next to no time, locked up in a guest room, just like Erlina had said. However, when they tried to get her out, they encountered their first major setback.

"My 'host' was not content with leaving me under heavy guard. He's sealed the door by magic," shouted Anora through the door. "Find the mage who cast the spell. He'll most likely be at Howe's side."

"Fine, I'll go find him and then I'll get you out." _This is too perfect, _thought Eleanor. 

As it turned out, Howe was in the castle's dungeons. _How fitting. The torturer in his natural habitat. _At the entrance of the dungeons, the group stumbled upon a man being held prisoner. They knew he was no ordinary man, because when they arrived he killed the man guarding him and pulled him into his cell. The cell door swung open moments later and the prisoner stepped out of the cell, wearing the guard's armour, and thanked the group. Suddenly, he recognised one of the group. "Alistair? Is that you?" he asked.

"Who…? Wait. I know you. You were at my Joining. He's one of us. A Warden from Orlais. Jader I think. Or was it Montsimmard? I'm afraid I don't remember your name," fumbled Alistair, trying to place the Warden's name.

The Warden stepped in to help him, "I'm Riordan, senior Warden of Jader, but born and bred in Highever and glad to be home."

"Greetings Riordan. I am Eleanor. I must ask, what are you doing here? I was under the impression Alistair and I were the only Grey Wardens left around here."

Riordan explained why he was there and how Arl Howe had poisoned and captured him. Eleanor gave him back his papers that she'd found in the room next to his cell and then asked Morrigan to patch him up, but he refused, saying she would need all her mana for the inevitable fight ahead. After telling him to go to Arl Eamon's estate, they went their separate ways.

Unlike the rest of the group, Eleanor was not surprised by the atrocities they found in the Arl's dungeon. It did not mean, however, that she was not horrified by what they saw. The further they delved into the dungeons, the more tortured souls they found – and saved – and it did nothing but add fuel to the flames of her hatred for the man responsible. Innocent people were locked in cells until they went crazy, their only crime was knowing the Arl's true nature. One noble man had been found tied to a rack, his legs broken beyond repair. Eleanor helped everyone she could then moved on, anxious to find Howe.

As they got closer to finding him, Alistair became aware of a subtle change in Eleanor's behaviour. A fire he had not seen in her eyes since she had first told him what Howe did had returned to her eyes. Maybe it was just seeing what he had done to the people down there, but he feared it was a look of vengeance and not sympathetic anger. While she was looting a few guards' bodies, Alistair decided to ask, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She snapped her head around to stare at him. "Am I sure?" she asked, "Of course I'm sure! Alistair, this man murdered my family! He's tortured these innocent people! He deserves to die! Would you let Loghain walk away if you had the chance to kill him?"

"No. I'd kill him for Duncan, for Cailan, for everyone at Ostagar." He looked at her and nodded, "He's yours. It's only right you get the killing blow."

She placed a hand on his shoulder, "Thank you. Let's go guys."

At last they came to the final door. Magic buzzed from behind it and they knew they had the right room. Eleanor kicked open the door, her revenge so close she could taste it.

"Well well, Bryce Cousland's little spitfire, all grown up and still playing the man. I never thought you'd be fool enough to turn up here. But then I never thought you'd live either," he sneered.

Eleanor's blood boiled at the sight of the man. "You're awfully cocky for a dead man," she spat.

"Is this about your family? Still? But I have done so much more than wipe your name from Ferelden memory. And what's left? A fool husk of a daughter likely to end her days under a rock in the Deep Roads. Even the Wardens are gone. You're the last of nothing. This is pointless. You've lost."

She grabbed the hilt of her sword, "I know your game Howe. No more shadows, no more games. It's just you and me."

"It would appear that you've made something of yourself after all little Cousland. Your father would be proud. I, on the other hand, want you dead more than ever," he said, drawing his blades. His men drew theirs too.

"Funny. I want you dead more than ever too," retorted Eleanor before drawing her blades fully, the rest of the party following suit.

All hell broke loose then. Eleanor and Howe went straight for each other, their attention focused solely on the other, ignoring everyone else around them. Morrigan focused on casting spells around the room, freezing as many of Howe's men as she could. Alistair took the brunt of the attacks from Howe's guards, keeping as much attention on him while Zevran crept behind Howe's mages and took them out in one swift blow each.

Howe had the advantage of speed and cunning against Eleanor, but she had been paying attention to Zevran and Leliana's rogue lessons. With their help, she'd learned how to effectively wield her dual blades like a rogue, but with the strength and endurance of a warrior. Her hits were precise and deadly, each one striking down to the bone. With each blow Howe weakened, his grip on his blades becoming weaker and weaker. As she fought, her family filled her mind, fuelling her aggression. _This is for my mother_, she struck his arm, making him drop his blade. _This is for my father, _she kicked at his knees, making him fall to the floor. _And this is for ruining my life, _she plunged her blade into his chest, revelling in the feeling of her blade slicing through his body. With what little strength he had left, Howe grabbed at Eleanor's armour and pulled her closer to face him. "Maker spit on you…I deserved…more." His grip loosened and he fell to the ground, limp.

Eleanor stayed crouched over his bloody body, holding onto the hilt of her sword. After a few minutes, a hand touched her shoulder. She turned to see Leliana looking at her concerned, "We need to get Anora and go."

"Of course," she said, her voice slightly shaky. She retrieved her sword from Howe's torso and wiped it on him, trying to remove as much of his blood as possible. They finished checking the dungeon for any other victims of Howe's depravity then headed back up to the room where Anora was being held. When they released Anora she was given a spare guards uniform to smuggle her out in. As it turned out, the guards outfit was little help.

"Warden! In the name of the Regent I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at-arms. Surrender and you may be shown mercy." Blocking their exit stood Ser Cauthrian and a small guard of soldiers, ready to take her and Alistair into custody.

"I came here to free Queen Anora, who was being held captive here."

Cauthrian didn't believe her, "Don't be ridiculous. The Queen isn't being held prisoner here or anywhere else. Her father wouldn't stand for such a thing."

Fed up, Eleanor pointed to the woman behind her, "Look! She's right here, in the guard's uniform. Tell her Anora."

"Ser Cauthrian! Praise the Maker you're here! This brigand tried to kidnap me!"

Eleanor saw red. "You lying bitch! I freed you and this is how you repay me?"

Things became a blur after that. Everyone was still exhausted from the battle down in the dungeons so they had little chance to defend themselves. Ser Cauthrian and her guards overwhelmed the group quickly, Eleanor being the first to go, then Leliana, then Morrigan and finally Alistair. The last thing Eleanor saw before she passed out was Alistair shielding her from the onslaught.


	9. Chapter 9

**_Note: this chapter's set in Fort Drakon and I don't skip straight to their escape, so if you're uncomfortable reading about torture and implied rape, skip it. Or skip down to the italics._**

* * *

Alistair awoke to the sound of a woman shouting and screaming. He opened his eyes to see a red haired woman being dragged away by two armoured men. _Eleanor. _He tried to stand up to help her, but he was kicked back down by another guard. "Stay down dog!" Face down in the dirt, he listened to Eleanor's shouts of defiance turn to pleas for help.

Hours passed by and Eleanor's pleas turned to the occasional sob or scream of pain. Alistair couldn't see properly what they were doing to her, but he could hear their taunts and jeers. Through it all he remained silent, knowing his cries would only make things worse for both of them.

"The bitch is just taking it now. Clearly we haven't broken her spirit yet."

"Leave it to me."

Alistair heard a faint whimper and the two men laughing. "Not so tough _now_ are you. All it took was a man to put you in your place."

"Get your hands off her!" screamed Alistair.

The soldier guarding his cell laughed, "It's not his hands you should be worrying about."

* * *

She awoke to find her head on Alistair's lap, his hand stoking her hair. She felt bloody and bruised and that was the least of her injuries. "Oh you're awake! I was starting to worry."

"I'm going to strangle Anora when we get out of here," she said, trying to sound like her normal self. Alistair wasn't convinced, but said nothing regardless, not wanting to drag up unpleasant memories. "I really hope the others hurry up and rescue us. I don't have the strength to stand up, let along lift a sword and fight my way out of here."

As it turned out, the others were on their way to rescue them. A few hours later, Zevran and Leliana burst into the dungeons, their armour and blades covered in blood. "Oh Praise Andraste, you're alive!"

"Can you walk?" asked Zevran while picking the lock to their cell.

"I can, but I don't think Eleanor can," Alistair demonstrated his statement as he said it, standing up. Eleanor tried to join him, but her legs just wouldn't support her. She fell to the ground with a painful _thud. _

"Here, drink this," Leliana handed her a vial, "then I'll help you into these. It'll hurt, but it's the only way to get you out of here." A set of guard's armour lay on the floor next to her. She winced at the thought of wearing it, her whole body aching and stinging. After she drank the potion, Leliana tried to help her into the armour, but it only made her worse.

An idea struck Alistair. "I'm assuming you killed everyone on the way in."

"Everyone who had to be killed and a few just because I could," said Zevran. "Oh! Of course." He crouched next to Eleanor, "My dear, I'm afraid this will hurt a little."

"Just get me out of here Zevran," she whispered. As gently as he could, Zevran picked up Eleanor and cradled her in his arms. He nodded to Leliana and Alistair, who was now wearing his armour and carrying Eleanor's, and they made their way out of Fort Drakon and back to Eamon's estate.

* * *

_She needs her rest. _

_I'm hardly distracting her from that by sitting here now am I?_

_You need your rest too you know. You're still injured. _

_I'm not leaving her side. End of discussion._

"She's awake, fetch Wynne!" The bright light hurt Eleanor's eyes, but she opened them regardless. Light was better than darkness and she'd had plenty of that lately. She squinted to see where she was. She assumed she was in Arl Eamon's estate since she was in what looked like a four-poster bed (the canopy above her suggested as much and nobles do have a love for oversized furniture). A face came into view. _Alistair. _She tried to make her eyes focus. He looked terrible. Under his eyes were dark circles, from lack of sleep or bruising, she couldn't tell; tied around his neck hung a sling, supporting what must have been a broken arm; his skin was various shades of purple and blue.

"You look dreadful," she croaked.

Alistair laughed, "That's rich coming from you. You should look in a mirror sometime." A smile spread across his lips, causing one just as big to grace Eleanor's. Suddenly, they burst out laughing, the gloom from Fort Drakon behind them at last. They both knew it would haunt their dreams, but for one joyful moment they enjoyed being free.

Eleanor heard the door open and who she assumed to be Wynne walk into the room. Alistair leaned down and kissed her forehead before leaving the room wordlessly. Wynne began busying over her, checking her injuries and healing then for what Eleanor assumed was not the first time. A thought suddenly struck her. She cleared her throat, "Erm, Wynne?"

"Yes dear, what's the matter?"

Eleanor wondered how to word her question. Eventually she settled on, "How much of what happened in Fort Drakon did Alistair tell you?"

Wynne stopped her examination and held Eleanor's hand, "He told me about…that. I took care of it when I managed to get Alistair to leave your room to sleep. You should feel no physical discomfort from it."

_But I'll still feel emotional pain from it, _she finished for her. "Thank you Wynne." The mage finished healing Eleanor then left her to sleep.

But couldn't sleep, the reality of what she'd been through finally taking its toll on her. She laid awake staring at the walls, her thoughts stuck on a loop. _The sting of a whip. The pull of the rack. The humiliation. The pain. The sting. The pull. The humiliation. The humiliation. THE HUMILIATION. _She felt the pillow beneath her head become damp and realised she was crying.

The door cracked open. By the time Eleanor had managed to half-sit up, an arm was pulling her back down. She squealed in surprise. "Shhhh!" whispered Alistair, "Wynne will hear you. I'm supposed to be letting you rest, but I knew you wouldn't be asleep."

She shuffled closer to him, his arm wrapping gently around her. In his arms she felt like a porcelain doll: very small and very breakable. "What do we do now? How do we move forward from this?" she asked.

"I guess we just do what you've done for the last year already. Pretend you're fine and occasionally have outbursts that make people think you're crazy," he tried to make it sound like a joke, but it rang too true to Eleanor for it to be a joke. "Sorry, bad joke. But seriously, people need us to be strong. They don't care what we've been through, not really. Even Eamon. I'm not as stupid as people think, I know why he wants me on the throne and it's not because of my lineage. But we just have to suck it up and put on a brave face, then have our meltdowns in private. It's harsh, but necessary."

In his arms it was easier to block out the pain, but it didn't fade. Neither of them slept well that night, but then again, since becoming Grey Wardens, getting a good night's sleep was a rare event.


	10. Chapter 10

"Maker's breath! It's good to see you in one piece my friend."

"Indeed. We have been praying for your safe return Warden."

Eleanor forced a smile on her lips, her fists clenched by her side, "It's good to see you're alright Anora."

"I must said, I expected a more hostile welcome from you, considering my actions. I apologise, but you must understand it was necessary," she said, taken aback. Anora then began explaining how her father had done mad, so much so that he saw her as a threat, and how he was convinced that they would be brainwashing her as they spoke. Unfortunately, Loghain had plenty of support from the nobles, so they would have to find evidence of Loghain's scheming. "You will need ammunition for the Landsmeet, and there I can help. You have only just arrived in the city, so perhaps you are unaware of some…recent events. The city has been in turmoil since Ostagar, but the unrest is worst in the Alienage. Few elves accompanied that army so they should have little reason to be upset, which means that Howe and my father must have given them reason."

"A useful lead Anora, but…you could have sent this information with your maid," said Eamon, his frown making him seem even older.

"That is true. I feared for my safety as Howe's prisoner, but to tell you the truth I sent Erlina to you because I hoped we might join forces." Anora spoke to Eleanor directly, "You need that evidence for the Landsmeet, but you also need a stronger candidate for the throne. You need me."

Eleanor scoffed, "And you think after that little trick in Howe's estate I can trust you? Besides, Alistair will make a fine King."

"Will he? He is not a King, he is a Grey Warden. Besides, it will look like you are trying to put a Grey Warden on the throne, despite your claims. I am a neutral party _and _I am already Queen. I am the daughter of Ferelden's greatest general. Who do you really think ruled this nation for the last five years? Cailan? The country does not need an untrained King who does not even want the throne. Consider what I have said. For now, I will retire to my room. Warden, I ask that when you have a moment you would speak to me in private." With that, she turned and left the room.

"Well, she was…spirited," joked Eleanor. "Can we really trust her?"

Eamon thought for a second, "I cannot help thinking she will be trouble. But we should keep her close, all the same."

"I guess I'd better see what she wants. Get it out of the way," sighed Eleanor. _That woman infuriates me! I wish I could have nothing to do with her…but she's our best voice against Loghain. Urgh. _

Eleanor wandered down the hall until she reached what she assumed to be Anora's room (it was the largest unoccupied room left in the estate) and knocked on the door. Anora's regal voice greeted her and admitted her into her room. "Hello again, Warden. It is good that you came to speak with me. First, let me say that I knew your family. Your mother in particular was dear to me and what Howe did was…unforgivable. How fitting he died at your hands. I will be blunt. I can see that your voice will be a strong one in the days to come. It is you that Eamon listens to and with good reason. My father must be stopped, but once that is done Ferelden will need a ruler. I would welcome your support for my throne."

Eleanor looked at her confused, "Are you proposing an alliance? Because if you are then surely you should be speaking to Alistair and not to me. He is your opponent after all, whereas I am a Grey Warden."

"I am no fool Eleanor, I know you are the brains behind everything and not Alistair. He is Eamon's figurehead and does what he is told. You however, are fighting for Ferelden and not the throne. I am what's best for Ferelden, not Alistair. I know how to rule a country and right now Ferelden needs that more than another good man. Besides, I was under the impression he has no interest in being King, or am I wrong?" She raised her eyebrow at Eleanor, questioning her.

"I think he's more interested than you think Anora. He's grown into a strong leader over the last year, he just hasn't had many opportunities to prove it yet. Our mission has awakened him to the ways of the real world and while it was a tough lesson for him to learn, it was vital. I will admit, he was very naïve when I first met him, but he's learnt the hard way that everyone is out for themselves, especially in desperate times like these," she smiled to herself, reminiscing on how shy he used to be and how bold he had grown over the last few months.

Anora thought over what Eleanor had said. "Alistair seems like a kind, well-meaning, and biddable enough man. These are admirable qualities, if not kingly ones. He also seems to be a fine Grey Warden, which is exactly why he should remain one and serve the Kingdom by defeating the Darkspawn."

"Well if he wants to serve the Kingdom by being its King, I am not going to discourage him," Eleanor's tone told Anora she was done discussing the topic. "However, your experience does make you a better candidate. You already know how to run a country and my interests do indeed lie in what is best for Ferelden. If that is you, then surely it would be best to help you keep the throne."

"So I have your support then? Excellent. Thank you, Warden."

Wanting to leave her company as quick as possible, Eleanor made her excuses then left. _Well, I didn't technically lie. She assumed I support her. I never actually said yes, but she thinks I did, so she'll give her voice in the Landsmeet. Good. _

Eleanor wandered around Eamon's estate, contemplating how to proceed at the Landsmeet. She would have to find the relatives of Howe's victims and persuade them to give their support in the Landsmeet. She needed more ammunition to use against Loghain – something she felt she would have after investigating the Alienage – though she already had some rather damning evidence to use against him. And then there was the problem of how to tell Alistair that she thought he should accept the throne. _Maker, how do I breach that subject? _

As fate would have it, that subject was waiting for her just around the corner. As Eleanor went to find Wynne for her daily check-up, she also found Alistair, stood talking to the elderly mage. "…Your arm looks much better now Alistair. You should be fine to fight with it, just try not to overexert it." She spotted Eleanor walking towards her, "Ahhh, there you are. I wanted to check on your injuries before you head out."

"Erm sure. Alistair, can you wait for me in the study please? I need to talk to you," she said while being ushered into an empty side room by Wynne. "You know Wynne, I feel much better," she lied.

Wynne raised her eyebrow at her, "I'll be the judge of that young lady." Eleanor sighed and let Wynne examine her. _Let's get this over with, _she thought. "Well, your injuries seem much better, in fact I'd say you're nearly fully healed. Try and take it easy today so you don't make them worse. Just because I'll be coming along does not mean you're invincible and _yes _I am coming along. You always bring me anyway and both you and Alistair will need my magic today." Wynne finished casting a few more healing spells on Eleanor then said, "There, you can go and talk to Alistair now."

Eleanor thanked Wynne then dashed out of the room and up to the study, eager to see Alistair. Her excitement temporarily made her forget why she was going to talk to Alistair. When she entered the study, Alistair had his back to her, stood looking into the fire. Feeling playful, she snuck up behind him and covered his eyes with her hands. "Guess who," she whispered in his ear.

"Hmmm, is it Andraste, come again to save us all from the Blight?" he asked, teasingly. Eleanor removed her hands and Alistair turned to look at her. "Ahhh no, it is someone even more beautiful than Andraste herself. Though it would be nice if she could come down and stop the Blight for us. It'd save us a lot of work and fighting," he joked, eliciting a playful slap from Eleanor. "So, what's on your mind?"

_Ahhh, right, this part. Shit. _"I spoke with Anora earlier today. She wants my support in the Landsmeet, in exchange for her help." She played with her hands, not sure how Alistair would react.

"Oh? Smart. I wouldn't be surprised if that's why she arranged to be here to begin with. They say that Anora is smart, determined…she's supposedly the one who really ruled here, not Cailan. She's her father's daughter. Me, I say that's where the problem lies. People like them always think they're the only ones who can fix things, so everyone else should stay out of their way. What do you think? When the Landsmeet comes, you might even have a say." He hoped she would not support Anora, but he still didn't know how he felt about being King yet. _Me…King? Surely not…_

"I think Anora's vote will be important for us, but I cannot support her being Queen. I know you don't like the idea of it, but I think you should seriously think about accepting the throne Alistair. You'd make a better King than you think," she said, wanting to add more to her last sentence, but not daring to yet.

"We'll see. I can be full of surprises at times," he winked. He wanted to ask her, but he didn't know if it was the right time. _Once the Blight is dealt with, then I'll ask her. Probably. I want to get through this first. _


	11. Chapter 11

Loghain had to die. Soon. He didn't think it was possible to hate the man any more than he already did, but after what he had seen in the Alienage, he did. He had ruined so many lives, human and elven alike. So many people had died at his hand. It was only fair that the favour be returned. He wanted to be the one to do it, but would he be able to? He hoped so. If the opportunity arose, he would fight for the privilege of killing the Hero of Riverdane. Duncan would be avenged, as would Cailan.

But that would have to wait. For now, he was looking at all the little trinkets they sold in the _Wonders of Thedas_ while Wynne restocked their potion supplies and sold a few items Eleanor had given her. Eleanor had disappeared to somewhere unknown with Leliana. _I don't want to know. It's rarely anything good with those two, usually shoes or dresses or…female things. _When Wynne was finished, she herded Alistair back out of the shop and they met back up with the other two women in the _Gnawed Noble. _They were already there waiting for them. Eleanor was stood talking to a man who bore a faint resemblance to a man they'd rescued in Howe's dungeons. He appeared to be nodding and smiling a lot, presumably thanking her for saving his son's life. "Of course you have my support," he heard him say. _Ahhh good, she's already started talking to the nobles. _

Eleanor smiled and shook hands with the man, presumably thanking him for his support. She walked away from him and looked around the room, her smile turning into a grin when she spotted Alistair. Grabbing his hand she said, "Come on, let's get back. We need to tell Eamon what we found today. Before you ask, I've already spoken to everyone and have gained a lot of support for the Landsmeet. Now let's go!"

Agreeing, the four of them left the tavern and went back Eamon's estate. The entire way there Eleanor seemed to be jumping with excitement. They informed Eamon of what had happened at the Alienage and their discovery that Loghain had been dealing with slave traders. Despite his horror at Loghain's actions, they were also glad as it meant they had strong evidence to use against him in the Landsmeet. "We meet tomorrow at noon in the Royal Palace. The both of you need to be there, for obvious reasons. I hope it will not end in conflict, but if it does, be prepared to fight." Eleanor asked if he was done, then skipped off to her room.

"She seemed rather excitable, didn't she," said Eamon.

Ignoring the Arl, Alistair excused himself and followed Eleanor down the hall, curious to see what had her skipping for the first time in weeks. When he reached their room, the door was ajar. Inside he heard small feminine grunts. Puzzled, he pushed the door open. Inside, Eleanor was sat on the bed, rhythmically rubbing an unknown object on her lap.

"Oh! You weren't meant to see this yet! I wanted it to be a surprise," she said, covering the object in her lap with her arms. "I was polishing it an everything. Well, I guess you've seen it now. Still, hold out your hands and close your eyes."

He did as instructed and waited for the object to be placed into his hands. It was cold and metal, that much he could tell, even with his eyes shut. "Can I open them now?" he asked, opening his eyes without waiting for an answer. He looked down at the object in his hands and his mouth fell open in shock. _Impossible. _"How did you…? This can't be…" He stared at disbelief at the item in his hands. _His shield. This is _his _shield. _"Thank you. Truly. I had no idea this wasn't with him. This is perfect. I don't know how else to express my gratitude. This means a great deal to me," he said, a lump stuck in his throat. "I can't believe you remembered it at all… I'll treasure this."

"Of course I remembered Alistair. I know how much Duncan meant to you," she took his hand and held it in her own, "_You _mean a lot to me Alistair." _Say it already. Ask him. Don't be such a coward. _

Alistair shut the door, rested Duncan's shield against the wall then led Eleanor to the bed. "And you mean the world to me, which is why I want to help you. I know you are still suffering from Fort Drakon," her face scrunched up in discomfort at the name, "but I want to help you heal and move on. Wynne has done her part, but there are some things she cannot heal."

Eleanor looked down, "I can't be healed Alistair. They broke me in there and I can't be fixed, not even by you."

"I refuse to believe that," he said, a passion filling his words. His hand urged her to look at him, "You are strong. You are not broken, you're just...damaged. But damaged can be healed. Please, let me help you." He moved his hand so it was cradling her cheek, "Do you trust me?"

Looking him in the eyes she said, "Yes. With my life."

Taking her hands in his, Alistair led Eleanor up the bed. He could already feel her trembling, so he held her in his arms to settle her nerves. "I'm not going to do to you what they did, love. I want to help you forget about them," he said softly, his hand trailing up and down her arm comfortingly.

"Please...help me..." Eleanor pulled back from his arms and began undoing the straps on her armour. Alistair helped her, their hands making quick work of her chainmail. She sat on the bed in front of him in her tunic and leggings, shaking slightly again. Slowly, he untied the laces on her leggings and helped her out of them, lying her back down on the bed.

_Right, let's see if I remember what she said to do. _Alistair climbed up the bed to join Eleanor and kissed her tenderly. He could feel her trembling still, so he stayed kissing her until she relaxed. When she finally let herself go and melted into him, he moved from her mouth and began kissing down her neck, eliciting small moans from her. His hands caressed her body, creating pleasurable tingles that shot over her skin.

_Andraste's arse! I've missed this. _Eleanor's mind was a flurry of pleasure and terror. But her trust for Alistair kept the terror at bay, her mind telling her that he was not them and he loved her and would never hurt her. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she never noticed his fingers deftly untying her shirt, nor did she pay attention to him sliding it off her. She only realised it was gone when he began kissing lower and lower down her torso until her reached –

_Maker, she tastes divine! _

It was like nothing she had ever felt. She didn't know what he was doing, but she definitely wanted him to keep doing it. She lifted her head and saw Alistair's blonde hair buried between her legs. Feeling her sit up, he looked up at her from between her legs. _Maker he's sexy. I don't even think he realises it. _Eager for more, she pushed his head back down. He chuckled, sending a ripple of pleasure through her, before carrying on between her thighs.

Remembering what Leliana had told him to do, Alistair concentrated all his attentions on the bundle of nerves he'd found before, but never quite knew why they were there. Instantly Eleanor grabbed onto his hair and pushed him closer to her. _I'm guessing she likes it. _

She could feel it building, a familiar feeling with a hint of something else laced into it. _So close…Please… _Without realising it, Eleanor began chanting Alistair's name over and over, like the Chant of Light itself. Her grip on his hair tightened, causing him to wince a little in pain, and her chant grew louder. Shouting "Alistair" loud enough for the whole estate to hear, Eleanor finally let go. A tidal wave of pleasure washed over her, taking the last traces of her fear with her. While she knew she was not fully healed, this was a large step forward for her and she knew it. When her grip on his head loosened, he kissed his way back up her body until he reached her lips. He hovered there a moment, unsure if she would want to kiss him, but she pulled him down into a passionate kiss, answering his hesitation.

When they eventually broke the kiss to breathe, Alistair rolled next to Eleanor and smothered the top of her head with kisses. "Thank you for that," she sighed contently. "I feel much better. Truly, that had helped me. Although I think I need a second treatment to really help me," she winked cheekily at Alistair.

"Well…" he rolled her so she was beneath him again, "I guess I'd better get to work straight away then hadn't I?"


	12. Chapter 12

She awoke to an empty bed. She felt where Alistair had been. Cold. _He's been awake a while then. _She looked around the room and noticed his sword and shield were missing. Knowing exactly where he was, she got out of bed and searched for her clothes, in no hurry to go and find him. Having been in a similar position herself, she knew it was best to leave him alone for now. She found her leggings and shirt on the floor from the previous night and put them on, then headed down the training yard, sword in hand.

As predicted Alistair was there, hacking away at what appeared to be his third training dummy. "You know, if you keep treating them like that, they'll band together and form a mutant dummy and attack you," she joked, alerting him to her presence.

"Nah, that's just trees. I'll be fine," he said in between swings. Each dummy had been hacked to bits. They were the only sign of his anger, his face revealing little emotion, just exertion.

Trying again Eleanor said, "You know they're partly made from wood right? Wood comes from trees. You're just as screwed as I am if they come after us, since we're both guilty of murdering innocent trees." When he didn't respond, she used her sword to block his path, making him stop in his tracks. "We need to get ready."

Alistair lowered his sword and let Eleanor lead him back upstairs. On the way up she collared a servant and had her run them a bath. Alistair frowned at her. "Have you seen yourself? You're filthy! We can't have the future King of Ferelden looking like a ghoul, now can we," she joked, knowing he hated being referred to as 'King'.

"I do not look like a ghoul," pouted Alistair. When they returned to their room a string of servants were running around with a mixture of full and empty buckets. "Is everyone here plotting against me or something? How are they here already?" he asked a little too dramatically.

"Maybe they smelt you and started getting the water ready…" said Eleanor, while shooing the last of the servants out. Servants always made her feel a little uncomfortable and she'd forgotten how to be around them after so many months on the road. The door shut as the last servant left the room and Eleanor immediately began stripping Alistair out of his clothes, throwing them in a pile in the corner. When he was naked, she pushed him towards the tub full of steaming water, forcing him into the tub.

"Ow! Alright Miss Bossy Pants, I get it. Look, I'm getting in," he quickly clambered into the tub, lest he face the wrath of 'Miss Bossy Pants' (as he often referred to her when she made him do something he didn't want to do, but knew he should, i.e. bathing). He caught the bar of soap she threw at him and began cleaning himself, "Happy now?"

"Almost…" she said. Alistair was about to make a remark, but shut up when he saw her removing her own clothes and throwing them in the corner with his. She climbed in the bath with him, so she was sat on his lap, "Ahhh, that's better."

For the first time since Fort Drakon she bared herself fully to him. No shame, no hiding, just the two of them together, just like before. For the first time since Fort Drakon, Alistair could see both her new and old scars, the two of them mixed together on her skin. Despite Wynne's healing, a lot of her wounds were too bad or had been left too long to fully heal. The front of her torso was relatively unscarred, save for a few old battle scars and a few new ones. A new addition had also appeared on her right shoulder. It was large and puckered; that was the handiwork of Rendon Howe, a cruel parting gift left behind by one of his poison-tipped daggers. Her back was a different matter. Luckily, she could not see it; her back still bore evidence of her torture in Fort Drakon, a series of raised white lines criss-crossing over the majority of her back.

Seeing the scars on her back added fuel to Alistair's rage. _I just wanted to kill him before. Now I want him to suffer. He's responsible for this. He will pay._

* * *

They had won. The Landsmeet supported them and not Loghain. The nobles had called him out on his crimes, revealing his atrocities. Anora had spoken out against her father, just like she had promised. Yet still the Hero of Riverdane would not back down.

"Let us end this. I suppose we both knew it would come to this. A man is made by the quality of his enemies. Maric told me that once. I wonder if it's more a compliment to you or me. Enough. Let the Landsmeet declare the terms of the duel."

_A duel. Then that means…_ "Will you face me yourself, or have you a champion?"

Her voice rang through the palace, "I think it only right that Alistair be my champion." _Though I'd happily kill you myself, _she added mentally.

She turned and nodded to him. _She kept her promise. _

Both ready, the two men faced each other, their shields held in front of them and their hands on the hilt of their swords. They circled each other, daring one another to make the first move. Loghain moved first, unsheathing his sword and brandishing it in front of him. Alistair followed suit, his own sword held towards the man he detested. _Finally, Duncan will be avenged. _With a roar he lunged at the warrior. He blocked his attack easily, but Alistair kept attacking him relentlessly, his rage fuelling his attacks. Whenever Loghain attacked, Alistair blocked then used his shield to push his opponent back, enjoying his grunts of pain whenever his shield hit his face. Despite his years of experience, Loghain began to wane, no match for Alistair's seemingly unending fury. His stamina levels were low, but he knew Loghain's were lower. With the last of his strength, Alistair struck Loghain in the chest, cracking his armour and sending him to the floor. Bested, he dropped his blade to the ground.

"Your champion has won. I concede," he said to Eleanor, defeated.

She moved to stand by Alistair, who held his blade at Loghain's throat, making sure he didn't get up. "I accept your surrender Loghain, but it not me with the blade at your throat."

"Wait! There is another option!" Riordan stepped out from the crowd. Alistair shot him daggers. _No! _"The teyrn is a warrior and General of great renown. Let him be of use. Let him go through the Joining."

Before Alistair could object, Eleanor said, "I can't do that. I cannot fight by this man, warrior or not. We can kill the Archdemon ourselves. One more Warden would make little difference at this point." Both Riordan and Anora opened their mouths to speak, but Eleanor cut them off with a wave of her hand, "I have made up my mind. Loghain must die for his crimes."

"You can't do this!" cried Anora, "My father may have been wrong, but he is still a hero to the people."

Loghain looked to his daughter, "Anora, hush. It's over." She argued regardless, but he looked away from her and to Eleanor. "Daughters never grow up. They remain six years old with pigtails and skinned knees forever. Just make it quick Warden. I can face the Maker knowing that Ferelden is in your hands."

Eleanor nodded to him, a last minute sign of respect to the man. _Funny. I almost don't hate him right now. Almost._ She turned away from Loghain and placed a hand on Alistair's shoulder, his sword still at the General's throat. They nodded to each other in mutual agreement.

She moved away from him. He pulled his sword back, focusing all his anger and pain into his strength. He thought of Ostagar, of Duncan and Cailan, of the Alienage, of Howe's prisoners, of Eleanor's scars...

"This is for Duncan," he said, determination in his eyes. He swung.

A murmur of shock spread through the crowd as Loghain's head was detached from his body, his blood splattering those close to him, including his daughter. His body fell to the floor lifelessly, blood pooling from where his neck used to be. Anora rushed to her father's side and crouched over his body, a single tear betraying her normally cool composure.

"So it is decided. Alistair will take his father's throne," declared Eamon to the room. Anora left her father's side, eager to defend her throne.

_Come again. _"Wait, what? When did this get decided? Nobody's decided that have they?" _I can't be King! But Anora can't be Queen, but still – Maker this is really real isn't it?_

"He refuses the throne. Everyone has heard him. I think it's clear then that he abdicates in favour of me," said Anora, looking to Eleanor for her support.

Eamon stepped in to stop her, "I hardly think you're the appropriate person to mediate this, Anora. Warden, will you help us?"

All eyes turned to Eleanor expectantly. She tried to remain composed, but inside she was panicking. _Shit, what do I do? I can't put Anora on the throne, but Alistair doesn't really want it. I'm gonna have to do it, aren't I…? _

Eamon's voice pulled her out of her thoughts, "Warden, as the arbiter of this dispute, what is your decision? Who will lead Ferelden?"

_Here goes nothing. _"Alistair will be King," she said confidently, "and I will rule beside him." _There's no turning back now. I've said it. Shit. What if he –_

"You will? I mean, you will." Under his breath he said, "This is usually where I wake up. Or everyone points and laughs because I have no clothes on."

Eleanor stopped paying attention once Alistair stopped speaking. _He didn't freak out. Oh, thank the Maker! _She was vaguely aware of Eamon and Anora arguing about something and then Alistair said something in a loud voice to the room and it was all rather tiring. She just wanted to be rid of the place and back in her bed in Alistair's arms, forgetting about their impending doom. A couple of guards escorted Anora out of the room and Eleanor snapped out of her daydreaming.

"Your Highness, would you address the Landsmeet?" asked Eamon. Alistair stepped forward, remembering that that was him. Speaking to the whole room, Alistair reassured the nobles that he would protect the land and fight the Darkspawn because not only is he King, but also a Grey Warden. He appointed Eamon as his regent until he returned from facing the Blight, a position which Eamon gladly accepted. Next, he appointed Eleanor as his General, taking Loghain's place. Eleanor gladly accepted as well, "We will beat this Blight, as Cailan dreamed." He finished addressing the crowd, eager to leave them; he needed to speak with Eleanor. Urgently.


	13. Chapter 13

_Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit! SHIT! He's gonna kill me, I know he is. God, why was I so stupid? He'll never forgive for doing that, he'll – _

The door to the Arl's reading room swung open. Everyone's eyes turned to greet Alistair, the new King of Ferelden. "So…funny story, tell me if you've heard this one before. This fellow gets made King and then gets engaged, all in the same night…"

"I'm so sorry Alistair, please don't hate me!" Eleanor clasped her hands in front of her, begging him to listen to her.

"We'll leave you two alone," said Wynne, ushering the group out of the room and shutting the door behind them. Eleanor used their departure to put some distance between herself and Alistair. She paced nervously, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

He looked at her confused,"Why would I hate you? I'm fine with becoming King, in fact I think I can really do some good as King. I am curious about…you know, the engagement. Are you sure? I didn't think you'd want to…you know." He stumbled over his words, struggling to express himself.

Eleanor stopped pacing and faced him. "I've never been more sure of anything."

"They'll expect an heir you know. With the Taint in our blood, it's hard enough for one Grey Warden to produce a child, but two… Every Grey Warden I knew who had children had them _before _they took the Joining. Having an heir…might not be possible." He looked at her sadly, wondering if she would still want him knowing that.

She processed the new information. _I…can't have…children? But – What? _Alistair put his hand on her arm and urged her to say something. Placing her most convincing smile on her face, she said, "Well I guess we'll just have to have twice as much sex then won't we? I won't have _anyone_ say we couldn't have children from lack of trying."

"You make an excellent point my dear. It's a good thing we started when we did," he said, a smirk on his lips. "I suppose this is something we'll just have to deal with later. My coronation isn't going to happen for some time yet, and we still have the Darkspawn to fight. Eamon's left for Redcliffe already and he says the armies have almost finished gathering there. We should go to Redcliffe as soon as possible."

"Then we'll leave at dawn tomorrow," she said. She leaned up and kissed him chastely, then walked towards the door. "I have a few things to do. I'll see you later…your Highness," she added slyly before slipping out of the room, muffling her giggling.

She spent the rest of the afternoon away from Alistair. A large amount of her time was spent explaining the situation to her companions. Naturally, Leliana was overjoyed and began sharing her ideas for her wedding dress and hair straightaway, never once considering she wouldn't be the one to dress her. She spent an hour describing different ways to put up her hair and which would flatter her face the best (not that Eleanor cared). Morrigan and Sten said little, not that that surprised her. Wynne congratulated her, as did Zevran before he began asking if they would be consummating their marriage early. Knowing how to handle him, she merely gave him her usual 'Wouldn't you like to know'.

After a while she managed to give Leliana and Zevran the slip – their talk had turned to her wedding night and she didn't want to discuss that with them. She decided to wander the grounds' garden to give her time alone with her thoughts. _I'm gonna marry Alistair. Andraste's dimpled butt cheeks, that means…I'm gonna be…Queen. Holy – I don't think I thought about that part earlier. If only mother could see me now, _she laughed out loud to herself. _She'd have a heart attack from joy, that's for sure. And she'd be fussing as much as Leliana, if not more. Thank the Maker I don't have to put up with both of them faffing over me at once!_ Her laughter died, _But then, she'd be expecting grandchildren too. And I can't give her that. I can't have Alistair's child. _She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She noticed how dark it had grown so headed back inside to find Alistair. She had one last thing to do today.

She ran into him in the main hall of the estate, "There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere. No one knew where you'd gotten to."

They closed the gap between them with a few long strides, "I was in the garden thinking. I thought a lot about…everything and I realised one thing: I don't want to die without being with you last time." She pulled him down to her by his neck and kissed him with a desperate passion. After a moment of shock he returned her kiss with as much passion. Remembering where they were he pulled away, "Maybe this isn't the place to do this."

Her eyes lit up, "You're right, it isn't." Dragging him by the hand, Eleanor led Alistair up to their room. In truth, she was terrified. Terrified of the memories, terrified of dying, terrified of losing Alistair. But that didn't matter tonight. _If I might be dying soon, I'm bloody well having sex again._

When they reached their bedroom she slammed the door shut and pinned Alistair between her arms, a fire in her eyes. They kissed again then began frantically tugging at each other's armour, desperate for physical contact. They threw each piece of armour to the floor, focused on nothing else but each other. Alistair fumbled with Eleanor's underclothes, too distracted by her mouth on his neck to focus on removing them. In between kisses she said, "I don't want you to hold back because you're worried about me. I want to feel you. All of you."

Finally free of her smalls, Alistair cupped her buttocks with his hands and lifted her up, her arms automatically wrapping around his neck. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her mouth now nibbling his ear, causing shivers of pleasure to shoot straight to his groin. He reversed their positions so Eleanor had her back against the door, pinned there by Alistair's weight and his hold on her rear. _Maker she looks beautiful. _He growled and began attacking her neck with his mouth, nipping and sucking until it bruised the skin. When she moaned appreciatively, he moved his mouth down to her breasts, nipping and sucking all the way, leaving a trail of purple down her chest. He tortured her like this for a while until she was begging him for more, grinding her crotch into him as best as should could in her position.

Alistair adjusted his grip on her behind and carried her over to the bed, practically throwing her onto the covers. Part of him wondered if he was being too rough, but that part of him quickly shut up when he looked down at the naked woman sprawled out on the bed, her red locks framing her flushed face. _I am a lucky man. _Quickly shirking the remainders of his own clothing, he joined Eleanor on the bed and began kissing down her body ravenously. When he reached her crotch, he used his fingers to elicit a few more moans before sliding them into her easily. "Somebody's wet," he smirked, crooking his fingers and hitting her sweet spot. Each crook of his fingers had her begging; for release or him, he wasn't sure, but he decided to tease her a little more. Eleanor said something incoherent so Alistair decided to have a little fun, "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that my dear. What did you say?"

On the wave of an orgasm she shouted, "Fuck me! Please fuck me!" In one move Alistair removed his fingers and threw her leg over his shoulder, moving up her body so his hips rested over hers.

"That wasn't so hard now was it?" he said, thrusting into her as he spoke, as if to emphasise his point. Grabbing her buttock for leverage, he thrust in and out of her, reaching deep inside of her with each thrust. With each thrust, Eleanor's terror receded more and more, the trauma of Fort Drakon being replaced with new memories. _The humiliation…but the pleasure…Maker, the pleasure. He's not them and this is not against my will. _Her thoughts became hazier and hazier, the pleasure causing her to lose all logical thought. Each thrust drove her closer to another orgasm, already more powerful than the last.

It'd been so long since Alistair had been inside of her and he couldn't last long, his own release already near. He leaned into his supporting arm, the change of angle hitting even deeper that before. The two of them quickly found release, Alistair collapsing on top of Eleanor. "Fuck that was…Fuck," she laughed breathlessly. She tried to move up the bed, but found her leg still hooked over Alistair's shoulder. "Erm, can I have that back please?" she asked.

"Oh, you mean this leg?" he sat up and held her leg in the air, "Yeah, I'm afraid this is mine now…as are you." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, the two of them laughing and giggling. For the first time in over a year they felt free, despite their impending doom. Eleanor tried to move out of his arms to go to the top of the bed, but he grabbed her legs and said, "Where do you think you're going missy? I'm not done with you yet." He pulled her back down the bed and flipped onto her hands and knees.

_This is going to be a long night._

* * *

In the early hours of the morning, after they'd had a bath to wash the sweat and smell of sex from their bodies, they laid in bed together for what could be the last time.

"So have you been planning this for a while or was it spontaneous?"

Eleanor looked up at Alistair confused. "What, having wild and passionate sex?"

"No, the engagement."

"Oh, that. I've been meaning to ask you what you thought about it for a while, I just never knew how to raise the topic. I tried, but I always chickened out at the last minute."

Alistair untangled himself from the woman in his arms and sat up. "You know, I've been meaning to ask you for a while too. But then you kinda stole that moment from me. So…" he moved from the bed and knelt on one knee. Eleanor sat up and gasped, realising what was happening. "Eleanor Cousland, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

"Alistair Theirin, of course I will."


	14. Chapter 14

The entire way to Redcliffe he could feel their eyes on him. _Maker, is this how I used to make Eleanor feel? _It wasn't just one set of eyes though, it was an entire army's eyes. In Denerim they had rounded up the troops who were to escort them to redcliffe, as well as any of Loghain's men who would swear allegiance to Alistair. They all kept looking to him, as if expecting him to shine light out of arse at any second and blast the Darkspawn away.

"They believe you, you know." An Orlesian lilt interrupted his internal cringing. He looked at its source. Leliana. She was staring at him, waiting for him to answer. When he didn't, she continued speaking, "They really believe you can do this. I can tell from the way they look at you."

_Oh great, just what I need. More pressure. _"Well I wish they'd look somewhere else every now and again. It's rather unnerving, them all staring at me."

* * *

Even this close to the end of their mission, problems still arose. Despite their initial thoughts, it appeared that the Darkspawn horde was amassing on Denerim and not Redcliffe. To make matters worse – or better depending on how you saw it – the Archdemon was at the head of the Horde, leading its armies towards the capital city. This meant that the army the Wardens had gathered needed to been sent as soon as possible to Denerim, with the Wardens in tow.

Riordan had been waiting for them at Castle Redcliffe, a grim expression on his face. It was like he knew something everyone else didn't. As it turned out, he did. "Had I known, I would have told you both sooner. You are both new to the Grey Wardens so no one has told you about how the Archdemon is slain."

"You mean there's more to it than just chopping its head off?" asked Alistair. _What isn't he telling us?_

"So it is true. I had simply assumed…Have you ever wondered _why_ the Grey Wardens are needed to defeat the Darkspawn?"

Eleanor thought about it for a second, "I just assumed 'needed' was an exaggeration, I guess. But now I'm assuming it had something to do with the Taint inside of us."

"That is exactly what it involves. The Archdemon may be slain as any other Darkspawn, but should any other than a Grey Warden do the slaying, it will not be enough. The essence of the beast will simply pass through the Taint into the nearest Darkspawn and be born anew in that body. The dragon is thus all but immortal. But if the Archdemon is slain by a Grey Warden, its essence travels into them instead." He looked at his fellow Grey Wardens grimly.

Eleanor gulped, "That doesn't sound too healthy for the Grey Warden who does the slaying."

"While the Darkspawn is an empty, soulless vessel, the Grey warden is not. The essence of the Archdemon is destroyed…along with the Grey Warden."

Eleanor stood frozen. _I could really die then. _

"Meaning…the Grey Warden who kills the Archdemon…dies?" asked Alistair tentatively.

"Yes. Without the Archdemon, the Blight ends. It is the only way."

Eleanor remained frozen in place. Alistair put his hand on her shoulder and shook her gently. Slowly, she said, "So it's down to us three to end this and kill the Archdemon…"

"I am the eldest out of the three of us, so if possible, the final blow should be mine to take. The Taint will not spare me much longer anyway, so it is better this way. But if I fail, the task will fall to you two. The Blight must be stopped no matter what the cost, lest it destroy all of Ferelden. Remember that." He waved a hand dismissively, "But enough. There is much to do tomorrow and little time to do it in. I will let you return to your rooms to get some rest."

Eleanor and Alistair didn't speak as they left Riordan's room. When they stood in the corridor, Alistair tried to think of something comforting to say, but found nothing.

"I need a little time alone please," said Eleanor eventually. Alistair mumbled an agreement then headed down the corridor to what was supposed to be his room, not that he planned on sleeping in it.

When she heard his door shut, Eleanor let do and broke down in tears, slumping to the floor in a heap. _Why did I ever agree to this? Why did I follow Duncan that day? Sure I'd be dead, but at least I wouldn't be given the illusion of life, only to have it snatched away! At least I would have been able to have children had I not become a Grey Warden! How did things go so wrong?_ Realising she was still in the corridor, she stood up, wiped her face on her arm and headed to her room, her thoughts full of death and despair.

She shrieked in surprise when she entered her room, a figure stood in front of her fireplace.

"Do not be alarmed. T'is only I."

Eleanor sniffed, trying to stop her tears, lest Morrigan see her crying. Just because the mage no longer hated her did not mean she wanted to cry around her. "I'm not in the mood to talk Morrigan. Please, I just need to be along right now."

"I think you will want to hear what I have to say Warden. I have a plan you see. A way out. A loop in your hole." Eleanor stammered, trying to ask what she was talking about, but she kept talking, "I know what happens when the Archdemon dies. I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed and that sacrifice could be you. I have come to tell you this does not need to be."

Wiping her eyes again she asked, "What do you mean?" _Don't get your hopes up Eleanor, you don't know what she's offering yet._

"I offer a way out. There need be no sacrifice. I offer a ritual, performed on the eve of battle in the dark of night."

"What sort of ritual?"

"It is old magic. Some might call it blood magic, but that is merely a name. I know you are not against its use, provided it does good. This will most definitely do you good."

Something clicked inside of Eleanor's mind. "You knew about this before didn't you? That's why you're here. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you wouldn't have believed if it came from my mouth. We both know that Eleanor."

"What do need?"

Morrigan smiled briefly. "What I propose is this: convince Alistair to lay with me, here, tonight. From the ritual a child shall be conceived. The child will bear the taint and when the Archdemon is slain its essence will seek the child out like a beacon. The child can absorb the essence and not die. The Archdemon will perish but the Grey Warden who slays it will not."

"And because Alistair hates you, you need me to butter him up. I'd say do you really think he'd agree, but of course he would if _I_ ask him." Eleanor sighed, defeated. _I don't want to die and I don't want Alistair to die. _"I'll talk to him."

"A wise decision. Know this Eleanor: once this is done, you cannot follow me. The child will be mine to raise as I see fit." She signalled to the door, "I shall wait here, while you go and speak to Alistair. Be convincing."

Eleanor left the room and walked down the hall. _I can't believe I'm about to ask him to do this. Surely he wouldn't...Oh who am I kidding, he'd do anything for me and we both know it. But him…with…her… _She shuddered at the thought. She stood in front of his door, wondering how one breaches a subject such as this.

He opened the door, sensing her nearby. She looked at him shocked, hand raised about to knock. Her eyes were red and puffy and her cheeks were wet, but then again, so were his he suspected.

"I see you can't sleep either," he said, trying to lighten the mood. She looked so serious and sad. "What did Morrigan want? I saw her sneaking into your room earlier and the look she gave me…it was icy, even for her." She winced at the mention of Morrigan, "Is something wrong?"

_Best just come out with it. _

She took a deep breath as if readying herself, "We need to talk."

His heart leapt to his throat, "Oh. I guess whatever she had to say, it was big." _This is what I get for becoming King. Everyone always brings you bad news. _"So what did she have to say?"

Eleanor looked at her feet, trying to avoid Alistair's gaze. Worried, he closed the distance between them and lifted her chin so her eyes met his. Sighing she said, "You know I love you. I never want to be without you, but if you died tomorrow I couldn't go on living. And I know you feel the same way. Morrigan has a way for us to avoid dying."

She still looked upset, "I'm guessing it's not pleasant, given your expression."

"I need you to sleep with Morrigan as part of a ritual."

He burst out laughing. "Cute. This is payback isn't it, for all the jokes." His laughter died when he looked down at Eleanor, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. "Oh, you're not joking. You're serious. Wow, that's quite a choice. Die or sleep with Morrigan. Surely you're not considering this are you."

One look at her face told him she was. "I don't want you to die. I don't want to die. If going through with Morrigan's ritual means we don't die I'm willing to do it. But I can't physically do it, believe me I could if I would. Please. I would never normally ask anything of you, but I am asking you to do this, if not for yourself, then for us." She pleaded him, tears overflowing from her eyes.

He shook his head. _Surely I'm not considering this. _"Look, even if I was willing to… with her… are you sure you'd be alright with it?"

The sadness in Eleanor's eyes grew, "No…but if this is what it takes to come out of this thing alive…Please, I don't want to live in a world without you. You're the only good thing left in my life."

Alistair sighed. _Maker, I can't believe I'm going to do this. _"Fine. Ok, I'll do it." He shuddered, "Urgh, where is she? Let's get this over with before I change my mind." She kissed him ardently, thanking him through her tears.

* * *

He hated himself. His body had betrayed him. He was glad the lights were off the entire time, but he could still feel her crawling on his body, manipulating it to do her bidding. And it worked. The entire time his thoughts were of Eleanor, her naked body above him and not the witch's. He imagined it was her mouth around him, her hands caressing his skin, her on top of him. But he knew it wasn't. She was too tall, too skinny. Eleanor had more muscle, her years of swordplay leaving her with toned but scarred skin.

When she left, he found his clothes and called a servant to fill his tub, eager to wash all traces of their activities from his body. He washed himself for a long time, scrubbing himself over and over until his skin was raw. _The things we do for love. _

She waited in her room in front of the fire, her legs pulled up to her chest. _What have I done? I'm a horrible person, asking him to do that. _Her tears hadn't quite stopped yet. Just as she thought she was done more would fall. She thought of him and her together and shuddered.

Her door opened. Alistair stood there, his eyes sad. "I'm so sorry," she said.

"I know," he said. She stood and ran to him, her tears flowing freely. They stood together, embracing each other. After a few moments Alistair joined in Eleanor's misery. They cried at what had happened that night. They cried at their still possibly impending deaths. They cried at the deaths of their loved ones. But most of all they cried at the thought that one of them might have to go on living without the other if Morrigan's ritual didn't work.


	15. Chapter 15

This was it. They had reached Denerim and had begun their assault on the Darkspawn army. The Grunts were easy to kill and proved little challenge for the group. But Maker there was a lot of them. They never seemed to stop, wave after wave of them emerging from holes in buildings. Eventually their numbers began to wane so the army at the gate of Denerim held them off while the Grey Wardens strategized.

"You want us to go where? Have you forgotten our recent 'trip' there?"

"It is the best place to fight the Archdemon as it is the highest point in the city. I'm sorry, but you will have to put your own issues behind you and focus on the task at hand," said Riordan coolly. "We have to draw the dragon's attention, though I must warn you, once we engage it, it will call all its Generals for reinforcements. I can sense two Generals in the city. One is in the Market District and the other is in the Alienage, so you may wish to head there before you go to Fort Drakon."

"Then we get rid of the Generals first, get rid of its reinforcements," said Eleanor. "That'll give us a better chance against the Archdemon."

"Very well then. Who did you wish to take with you into the city?"

Eleanor looked at the group before her. "Alistair, obviously. Morrigan, your magic will be useful, especially since you learned those Spirit Healer spells. And I think…Zevran, here's your chance to redeem yourself. Besides, your poison will be useful, as will your skills as an Assassin."

"Then it is decided. Everyone else will stay here and assist in keeping the Darkspawn at bay. Who will lead them?"

"Sten, I leave you in charge."

"Very likely," he said, as if he'd expected to be leader. It wasn't the first time he had made a comment about him being a better leader than Eleanor, though since she had found his sword he had stopped insulting her and started to respect her.

"Fair enough. Nothing you have done so far has prepared you for what you face now. May the Maker watch over you friend," said Riordan before leaving the group at the gates.

They said their goodbyes then. Eleanor realised how many friends she had made during her time as a Grey Warden. As each one said their goodbyes, she realised just how many people she could lose – and how many people could lose her. It got harder and harder to say goodbye as she went on.

"I'm glad you saw sense and decided to bring me Ella my dear. I'm much more use to you at your side than I am here. I must say, when first we met, the last thing I ever thought we'd become would be friends, yet now I take great pride in being able to call you that. Come my friend, let us finish this."

Tears threatened to spill during Zevran's goodbye. She'd known he had come to trust her, especially after he refused to leave with Talliesen and stood by her side instead, but he thought of her as his friend as well. Coming from him, that was a great achievement.

"So we head into the city together, as it should be. Once this is done, no matter how it turns out, I will be gone. You are aware of this, yes?"

Morrigan's question made Eleanor suspicious. "No matter how it turns out? What's that supposed to mean? Are you saying it might now work? If he dies because of you, I will hunt you down Morrigan, regardless of your request. You asked a lot of the both of us last night. If you're planning on betraying us – "

"Calm yourself, t'was but a slip of the tongue. It will work, trust me." She sighed, "Allow me to say one thing before we go. I knew nothing of friendship before we met. And I will always consider you as such. Live well my friend. Live gloriously. Now, let us see this done. The Archdemon awaits."

There was no more putting it off now. There was only one person left to say goodbye to and it was by far the most difficult. He opened his mouth to speak, but Eleanor placed her finger over his lips to silence him. "No goodbyes. We _will _make it through this. And if you dare die then I am gonna storm the Golden City itself and rant at the Maker himself to bring you back. Ok?"

He answered her by pulling her into his arms and kissing her desperately. They both knew it may well be their last kiss so they stayed locked together, neither one wanting to move; they knew that once they moved, they would have to go and possibly face their deaths. Despite them fighting it, the need for air won out in the end and they separated, foreheads touching, arms still wrapped around each other. "I love you Alistair. _So_ much."

"And I love you. Always."

* * *

There were so many Ogres! _Why do they have to have this many? Is it really necessary?_ _Of course it is, they're trying to destroy the city. Ogres are great at destroying things. Best way to destroy the city: lots of Ogres. _Luckily, Ogres are easily dispatched of if you know what you're doing, and with the help of the army it was even easier. They're powerful, but stupid. The real difficulty was the General. Unlike the Ogres, he was powerful _and _intelligent. To add to their problems, he also had a collection of Emissaries around him, cursing the group and sending swarms of insects to attack them. Infuriated, Eleanor decided to pick off the Mages, curse be damned. It helped greatly; the group and army could then concentrate on the General and his Ogres with far less trouble, although Eleanor was still slowly losing consciousness.

She managed to hold out to the end of the battle. Just. Morrigan came to her aid, sending healing magic into her, a surprisingly concerned look on her face. Alistair risked a glance at her. _Don't you dare die on me Eleanor. _

They arrived to help the elves just in time. A group of Darkspawn were banging on their gate, trying to break in as they reached the Alienage. The group called in the Dalish – the group sharing a brief chuckle at the thought of the proud elves helping the ones who had 'abandoned their heritage' – who picked off the Grunts from the watch points. The second General was another Darkspawn Mage which made Eleanor sigh in annoyance. As useful as Mages are to have, they're a pain if you're fighting them. It was difficult to kill, but they did indeed kill it, along with all its Grunts and Ogres (_so many Ogres!). _

As they left the Alienage they felt a little easier, their seemingly impossible task made a little more possible with the deaths of the Darkspawn Generals. That was, until they saw a figure crash to the ground, from the back of a now injured Archdemon.

"_Riordan_!"

And then there were two_. Morrigan better not have fucked me over, because I will kill her if she has – if I don't die myself that is. _Eleanor and Alistair exchanged a look or worry and gulped. "It's down to us two now," said Alistair.

The city itself was swarming with Darkspawn, but with the army by their side their numbers didn't seem so large any more. Most were Grunts, though the closer they got to Fort Drakon, the stronger the Darkspawn became. More than a few times Morrigan had had to save various members of their little group from the Emissaries' curses. More than a few times Alistair had nearly been crushed to death by an Ogre. But despite it all, they made it past the Darkspawn and into Fort Drakon. The closer they got to the roof, the more determined the Wardens became – and terrified. _This is it. Time to face the thing that's been plaguing my dreams for months on end. _

As they stood at the door to the rooftop, Alistair pulled Eleanor to the side. "Look, I know we said no goodbyes, but if we never see each again after this, I'd be kicking myself for all eternity if I didn't say anything…So, I want you to know that you've been the best thing that's happened to me and I wouldn't trade a single moment with you for anything in the world."

Eleanor reached up to cup his face, "You made my life worth living again. Thank you." She pulled him down to kiss him one last time, before reluctantly moving away and towards the door. She addressed her three friends, "Let's kill this dragon."

* * *

It was now or never. She was the closest out of the two of them to the Archdemon. She had the best shot at killing it. She looked over to where she'd last seen Alistair. He was still there, surrounded by Shrieks and Grunts. _Looks like it's down to me then. Morrigan, if you're wrong I'm gonna haunt you so bad…_

Her own blades wouldn't be big enough. She spotted a broadsword sticking out of a Darkspawn corpse. She grabbed it with two hands and ran at the dragon, roaring as she ran. She dived under its head and slit open its long neck, avoid its clumsy last ditch attempts to save its life. Throwing all her weight behind it, she impaled the dragon's skull on her sword.

Bright light erupted from the dragon's skull and entered Eleanor's body. As the light entered her body, pain began to shoot through her, causing her to scream. _No! This wasn't supposed to happen like this! _The light got brighter and the pain grew more intense. After a few moments, Eleanor lost consciousness. As she collapsed to the ground she whispered, "I'm sorry…Alistair."


	16. Chapter 16

Light blinded her vision when she opened her eyes. She couldn't see a lot at first, just white light and two figures stood over her. _Mama? Papa? _

"Eleanor? Thank the Maker! Someone tell Alistair she's awake, but do _not _let him in here!"

_Wynne? How is that possible? I'm dead…aren't I?_

Her eyes began to adjust to the light and revealed where she was. She was laid in a large plush bed, tucked under many blankets. Wynne was stood over her, examining her, while someone else helped. Leliana. She looked around the room as best as she could and realised she was inside the Royal Palace – the abundance of Mabari portraits and carvings making it easy to infer her location.

She ached. A lot. She felt like a dragon had grabbed her between its mighty jaws and chewed her up. _Oh wait, that's because that actually happened. Yet I am alive. _"Morrigan…" she whispered, her throat dry.

"Left as soon as the battle was over. She stayed long enough to check you were alive, then left," said Wynne. She continued checking over Eleanor.

"How long have I been asleep?"

Wynne paused briefly before continuing, "Four days. I took the opportunity to heal the majority of your injuries while you were asleep, though you are by no means healthy yet. You'll ache for a while and you need to take it easy, but you should be fine to walk about soon."

The mage's head whipped around to look at the door as someone shouting in the corridor drew her attention. Annoyed, she began mumbling, "She had one job and she couldn't even do that…"

Her rant was drowned out as the door to the room flew open. "Oh thank the Maker! You're awake! I thought I'd lost you for sure." Alistair ran to her side and threw his arms around her, clutching at her a little too hard and causing her to wince in pain. "I saw you running for the Archdemon, but I was too far away…I wanted to…If you had…"

She freed her hands from the confines of her blankets and stroked his hair comfortingly. She shushed him, "It's ok. I'm alive. _We're _alive." She began to laugh, "We're alive. We made it through this thing alive Alistair!" She continued laughing until Alistair joined in, the two of them laughing uncontrollably. Eleanor stopped abruptly, pain shooting through her ribs. Wynne batted Alistair aside and came to check on Eleanor, a frown set on her face.

"I said to take it easy. This is not taking it easy," scolded Wynne. She fussed over her, checking for any re-opened injuries. When she discovered that everything was as it was, she frowned at Alistair again and brought him a chair. "If you insist on staying in here, then place your behind on this chair and keep it there. She needs to heal." Alistair nodded obediently. Seemingly content, Wynne said, "Now since you're finally awake, I'm going to get some rest. I'm exhausted." She exited the room, Leliana following behind her.

When she was sure Wynne was gone, Eleanor sat up in bed and began trying to move. "What happened to you taking it easy?" joked Alistair.

"I've been taking it easy for the last four days. I want to get out of this blasted bed," she said pulling the covers back and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She smiled, "Besides, I really need to pee."

Alistair laughed then turned around, giving her what privacy he could. He waited patiently, humming to himself with his eyes shut. His sanity suddenly returned to him and his cheeks flared red. _Maker! She's – and I'm – oh dear oh dear oh dear! _

"Oh, I missed your blushing. I'd started to think you didn't do it anymore." Eleanor's voice stopped his humming. She straightened her clothes – which were far too baggy for her, but they at least didn't irritate her injuries – and walked to sit on Alistair's lap, despite his protests.

"If Wynne shouts at me – "

Eleanor cut him off with a peck on the lips, which quickly turned into the two of them locked together. Her arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer, despite their protests of pain, and his arms joined behind her back to pull her closer to him, as much as he dared. Half of him wanted to cling onto her with all his strength, lest she disappear, but the other half of him hardly dared to touch her, lest she break.

He broke the kiss first and placed his hands on either side of her head. He stared at her in disbelief and shook his head. "I swear, this is the most realistic dream yet. Normally they're overly romanticised and Wynne is far less bossy – though this Wynne is much more like the real one. And I have to say my dear, you're a little more ladylike normally as well."

She placed her hands over his and clutched them tight. "Alistair, this isn't a dream. Or if it is, it's a very good one. That really is Wynne and she really was shouting at you earlier. I'm really awake and we really are both alive. Morrigan's spell worked! Although it would have been nice if it didn't hurt like hell when I killed that frigging Archdemon. She's the one who took in the Archdemon's essence – well her baby – so why did it have to hurt me? That's not exactly fair now is it?"

His semi-vacant stare vanished and pain filled Alistair's eyes. "It hurt?"

"Yes. It was like I could feel the Archdemon alive inside of me, coursing through my veins and through my nerves. Only it was like it was trying to get out of me, but my body wouldn't let it. It really hurt! Morrigan could have mentioned that'd happen," she winced at memory of it all: the pain surging through her body, the seeming betrayal of Morrigan, the realisation that she was joining her family at last. She sent a silent thank you to Morrigan. _Thanks for not double-crossing us Morrigan. _

Alistair was about to speak, when a gentle knock on the door cut him off. The door opened quietly and Leliana poked her head around the door. When she saw Eleanor sat on Alistair's lap, she pouted her lips and said, "Wynne will kill you if you don't get back in bed. And you," she said, pointing at Alistair, "will be banned from here if you carry on like this."

He threw is arms in the air in mock surrender, "Hey! She's the one who sat on me. I did as I was told. My rear end is still firmly placed on this chair, just like Wynne said. Tell her off, not me!"

Resigned, Eleanor slowly got up and made her way back to bed, laughing to herself and shaking her head while doing so. "Relax Leliana, I'm going back to bed. I just needed to get out of the blasted thing for a while. I have been in it for four days you know."

"Yes well, a little more time in bed and you'll be better in no time. So just do as you are told and you shall be up and about in no time, no? Good. Now, I imagine you're starving, so I've asked the cook to make you something and send it up. We can't have the Hero of Ferelden dying of hunger, now can we?"

_The Hero of Ferelden?_

* * *

A few days later Eleanor was well enough to walk about unattended, so the plans for Alistair's coronation were set in motion. Since she was now the Hero of Ferelden, everyone had been waiting for her to be in good health before giving it the green light. This was proven by the speed in which the royal palace managed to arrange the whole of Alistair's coronation; within two days, everything was set up, the nobles had gathered and the banquet had been prepared and laid out. Eleanor had spent her bedbound days shining up her Dragonskin armour, it being the only thing keeping her sane since Alistair was temporarily banned from her room until she was fully healed. The coronation was to be a formal affair which meant her armour had to shine.

The morning of the coronation, Leliana had spent as much time as she could working on Eleanor's hair and makeup. "Just because you have to wear your armour, it does not mean you can't look beautiful as well," she said whilst applying a second layer of paint to her face (it certainly felt like paint to her anyway). "And since you still look a little peaky, we need to make you look like your old dragon-slaying self, the side of you that the public knows and loves. You know you'll have to see the people afterwards right? Oh yes, they want to see their hero, their saviour." Leliana prattled on as she worked, Eleanor making noises of agreement every now and again. The bard knew she wasn't really listening, but she didn't mind. Eleanor had been through a lot in the last week and to then have all this publicity thrown on her as she'd only just recovered from life-threatening injuries…it's a lot for a person to take in. No one fully knew how bad her injuries had been, but they feared they were worse than Wynne let on. When the group had caught up with Alistair, Zevran and Eleanor, Morrigan had already fled. They were still on the roof of Fort Drakon, the Archdemon's corpse dominating the rooftop. Beside its mangled skull was Alistair. He was crouched over Eleanor's body, clutching her to his chest, sobbing and cursing Morrigan and the Maker, while Zevran looked on sadly. Wynne had rushed to her aid and used what magic she had left to get Eleanor to as stable a condition as she could, then had her rushed to the palace straight away. There she worked relentlessly day and night, joining bones together and knitting skin and closing punctures. Her injuries were severe, but the mage refused to let her die. Eleanor had fought for so long, it seemed wrong to give up on her now. So she fought. And Eleanor won.

"There, all finished. You look even more beautiful. Armour suits you," she said, moving away to let Eleanor look at herself in the mirror. She looked like her old self, only she didn't. Her skin looked like a doll's, flawless but lifeless; her eyes and lips were painted in her character red, the same shade as her hair; her hair was cropped shorter than normal, presumably due to a lot of it being singed by the Archdemon's flames.

"Is all this paint plastered on my face _really _necessary?" she asked.

Leliana sighed, "Unfortunately, yes. You still have some large ugly bruises and under your eyes is very dark as well. It took a few coats, but I managed to get your skin to your normal colour...although I'm still not happy with it…" She picked up her brush, but Eleanor batted it away. "Oh fine, let's head down then. It's nearly time."

The coronation itself was long and boring. The only real redeeming feature was that Eleanor and Alistair finally got to see each other again, though only briefly before Alistair was whisked away. At last, Alistair knelt before the Grand Cleric and was crowned King of Ferelden. The entire room burst out cheering, celebrating their new King. When they coronation was over, Eleanor went to join Alistair by his throne and kissed him.

"Your Highness," she said, a smile on her lips.

Alistair chuckled, "I'm gonna have to get used to people calling me that, aren't I? Oh well, it doesn't sound so bad coming from your lips. Speaking of your lips…" he trailed off, kissing her again. Someone clearing their throat made them pull apart – Eamon. Alistair pretended to cough and blushed. "I don't need to ask what your plans are," he smiled, "I can't wait to plan the wedding properly, though I'll warn you now, I don't know the difference between a daisy and a dahlia. So while I may pretend that I know what I'm doing, I'm really just agreeing with whatever you say."

Eleanor kissed his nose, "Good boy. You're already so well trained." She winked and grinned at his mock disgust. "Right, I'm going to go and see the others. We have all the time in the world for each other, but they'll be going soon. I'll be back shortly."

She talked to each of her companions and discussed their plans for the near future. She would miss them all, but they had other places to go, them only staying for so long because circumstance had dictated it. Sten was going to finally report back to the Arishok, his sword in tow; Oghren was made a General in Alistair's army, and even spoke of possible wedding bells on the horizon; Leliana told her how she was going to lead an investigation into the Darkspawn at Alistair's request; Wynne informed her that she had been offered the position of First-Enchanter, but she'd declined it, deciding to travel the world with what little time she had left instead; Zevran decided he would stay in Denerim for a while, offering his help against assassins. No one questioned where Morrigan was. They'd heard she had left straight after the battle and believed it to be true, knowing her nature.

At last she was ready. "My public awaits. Guards, open the doors."


	17. Chapter 17 - Epilogue

It felt odd waking up alone. Ever since their wedding had been officially announced, Alistair and Eleanor had rarely been left alone together. They had to appear to uphold traditional Chantry values and that meant no sex until after the wedding, hell, no being left in a room together unaccompanied until the wedding. If nothing else it was weird for the both of them. Over their two years together they had become inseparable, especially over the last few months, the couple celebrating not dying by having as much sex as possible whenever it was possible. So to now spend their time being forced apart, it was nearly unbearable. The only thing keeping them sane was the knowledge that once their wedding came, they could be together again.

On quite a few occasions, the couple had tried to get some time alone, only to be foiled by some do-gooder. One time, Eleanor had snuck out of her room in the middle of the night to go to Alistair's room. Unfortunately for her, Alistair had been moved to a different room and so it was not he who greeted her, but a very disgruntled Wynne. Another time, a meddling Templar had intervened and insisted on escorting their private tour of the grounds, lest the couple be seen alone together. After their seventh failed attempt, the pair finally began to realise that the Grand Cleric would win whether they liked it or not, and they would not be having sex again until they were married.

Eleanor dressed hastily, grabbed her practice armour and weapons, and headed to the training yard. Both she and Alistair had been spending a_ lot _of time there lately. They claimed it was merely because they missed the action of life on the road, but people knew better. Eleanor herself had not hacked at a dummy quite so aggressively since she had killed Howe, yet her aggression had only grown since the Grand Cleric's arrival in the palace. She had insisted on staying as close as possible, so to oversee the couple through the planning of their wedding, which meant they were under constant observation. It stressed them out terribly, and unlike earlier, they had no satisfying way of de-stressing. So they turned to their blades.

"Shall I paint her face on that dummy for you Eleanor? Or is your envisioning it sufficient? " Leliana's light, joking voice failed to interrupt Eleanor's swings.

She briefly looked to the bard, before carrying on hacking away at the dummy before her. "I have a vivid image in my mind thank you. Although I don't know if it's her per say I'm imagining, or her frigging Templars!" Frustrated, she kicked over the dummy, screaming as she kicked. "I can't wait to get this done so I can have sex again! Hell, just to be able to talk to him alone would be better than nothing! We can't do anything without someone watching over us."

"You know," said Leliana calmly, "you seem stressed."

Eleanor shot daggers at her, "Stressed? _Stressed?_ Why on earth would I be stressed? Sure, I've gone from having sex whenever I can to absolutely no sex for the last two months, and sure I can barely see my fiancée or be in the same room as him because you-know-who's worried we'll be at it like rabbits, and _sure _I've been given minimal say in my own wedding, but me? Stressed? Nah." She sighed before returning to attacking the training dummy.

"Just think though, you'll be married by this time in three days' time."

Eleanor stopped swinging her blades and sighed again"I suppose that's something at least. I just…miss him, you know. We can't even talk properly because of her. I miss Alistair. I'm meant to be marrying him for Andraste's sake! Surely we're meant to plan it all _together, _not vicariously through a third party."

Leliana placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You are, but unfortunately for you, you're marrying the King. That means everyone else dictates what happens and how it happens. If it makes you feel a little better, I'm in charge of you. You know, your dress, your hair, your makeup. When I'm done with you, everyone in Thedas will want to marry you, and Alistair will want to take you right there on the altar."

"Don't you mean _at _the altar?"

"Nope," she winked.

* * *

Why wouldn't she shut up? She'd been talking about the same thing for the last hour, yet had somehow she had found a slightly different way of saying it. He just wanted her out of there, out of his space. Maker, he'd take the Darkspawn over her any day, yet here he was, stuck in his study, listening to the Grand Cleric go over the order of events for his wedding for the thousandth time.

Bored, he let his mind wander. As always, his thoughts turned to his bride to be: the curve of her hips; the softness of her breasts; the twinkle in her eyes when a wicked thought crossed her mind; the feel of her naked flesh against his; the grip of his hands on her hips; the tight heat around him – Maker! He mentally shook himself, clearing his mind of his suddenly heated thoughts. He risked a glance down at his crotch and was suddenly glad he was sat at the table, lest he give the Grand Cleric a shock.

"Well your Majesty, I shall leave you to your lunch. Imagine, this time tomorrow you shall be stood before the Maker taking your vows. I am sure you are anxious to see your bride-to-be again." Alistair snapped back to attention, realising the Grand Cleric was leaving. He mumbled a response, then stared hungrily at the mountain of food before him.

_This time tomorrow…_

* * *

"Wakey wakey! Rise and shine! Today's the day!"

An overly excitable voice pierced her broken slumber. Tentatively, she opened her eyes then immediately shut them, light burning her vision. She heard a sigh from somewhere near her, "I told you not to drink so much, but did you listen? No, of course you didn't. I'll go and get Wynne. We need you fresh-faced and right now you look more like a Shriek than a blushing bride."

She heard the door slam, her head pounding as it did so, and a lilting voice shouting 'Wyyne' overly loudly. She tried opening her eyes again, slowly this time. The light still burned, but she was prepared for it and shielded her eyes with her hand. By the time she'd fully removed her hand, a disgruntled mage was frowning down at her.

"You're lucky you have me young lady. I'm only doing this because we can't have you looking like this today," she said, placing her hand on Eleanor's head. She felt much better instantly; the pounding in her head receded to an annoying thrumming and she could bare the light without squinting. She mumbled her thanks to Wynne, embarrassed to be getting hangover cures from her. Wynne turned to Leliana and said, "She's all yours," before leaving the room, grumbling as she went.

It was like she was punishing her. She swore she was. She'd never been so rough when doing her hair. Or maybe it was because she still wasn't one hundred percent and her head still felt a little bit delicate. Either way, every time Leliana pulled the brush through her hair, it hurt like a bitch. She yelped in pain, but Leliana gave her no sympathy.

"This would have been much more pleasant for you if you had gone to bed when I advised you to and not stayed up drinking with Oghren. But you were convinced you could out-do him, despite us all knowing about your inability to hold your drink." She continued ranting while pulling at Eleanor's hair, trying to make it into something beautiful. "This would have been so much easier if your hair was as long as it used to be," she sighed," It ruined my plans for your hair, I had to completely rethink everything. Not that you won't look beautiful because of it, but I could have done so much more!"

She left the bard to her work, her attention focused on the day ahead of her.

* * *

"Well say something then! Rather than just babbling."

Fergus, who realised he had indeed been babbling incoherently, closed his mouth and gathered his thoughts. _My little sister, all grown up. Maker, how time flies. _"You look stunning sister, and you know it. If only our parents could see you," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "They'd be so proud of their little spitfire."

She cringed at the name. "Please don't call me that Fergus. The last person who called me that ended up impaled on my sword. Besides, I'd like to think my temper isn't what it used to be." Somewhere behind her someone stifled a laugh then coughed to cover it up. "It's not!" she pouted, then burst out laughing, giving the others permission to do so as well. "Oh fine, but I'm not as bad now as I was. I was in a bad place."

"And now?"

"Now? Now I'm about to marry the man I love. I'd hardly call that a bad place," she said, smiling contently.

* * *

He waited nervously for her. He didn't know why he was nervous. He had no reason to be nervous. Yet here he was, palms sweating, heart racing, terrified for some unknown reason. _Sort yourself out Alistair. She's not an Archdemon, she's your bride. Although, she did _kill _an Archdemon. Does that make her just as scary as one? _

His internal rambling was cut off by the swell of music and the appearance of two figures at the other end of the Chantry. Both figures were instantly recognisable to him: Eleanor and Fergus Cousland.

"Maker," he breathed, his mouth open in awe. She looked so different, though maybe that was because he hadn't properly seen her in almost three months. Even put up, it was obvious her hair was shorter, it still not fully re-grown after the battle against the Archdemon; Leliana had clearly dressed her as her dress hugged her figure (although retained enough modesty for a wedding, its lace embellishments covering her cleavage); her face was painted in soft pinks rather than her usual fiery red, making her look both younger and calmer. He imagined this was the woman Eleanor would have become, had she not rebelled against her mother and picked up a sword. Knowing her, he felt the bold red was more a statement of defiance than a casual makeup choice. After all, it's far harder to marry off a woman who looked like a trouble-maker than a woman who looks like your ideal bride.

_I guess I should be grateful of her temper then, shouldn't I, _he smiled to himself. She looked at him then, through the veil covering her face, and smiled. _I bet she hates wearing that thing, _he thought, noting how when she walked she subtly blew upwards, as if trying to blow the veil away from her face. It had been so long since they had properly seen each other, so long since the Grand Cleric had made them keep contact to a minimum, that this was the closest they had been together in months. When the Couslands finally reached the altar, Fergus smiled at Alistair and placed Eleanor's hand in his. "Look after her, your Majesty. She's all I have left."

He nodded his agreement then turned his attention to his bride. At last, Eleanor removed her veil and Alistair could see her properly. "Maker, you're stunning," he breathed, smiling broadly.

The Grand Cleric cleared her throat and looked at the pair expectantly. Alistair squeezed Eleanor's hand once, then turned to face the wizened old woman in front of him, Eleanor following suit shortly behind him. All through the ceremony, the pair stole glances at each other, eventually earning an exasperated sigh from the Grand Cleric and a roll of her eyes. They listened as intently as they could, but both found the other rather distracting, having not had any real contact with them for months. Still, they spoke the right words when their time came, having memorised them in their hours spent with the Grand Cleric, and swore before the Maker and most of the nobles in Thedas to love each other until death parted them.

"I do," swore Alistair, placing the small gold and jewel encrusted ring onto his bride's finger.

"I do," swore Eleanor, placing a larger, simpler gold ring onto her groom's finger.

"Then by the power bestowed to me by the Maker himself, I hereby name you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, your Majesty."

Neither of them listened to the applause as they grinned at each other. Alistair pulled his bride into his arms and kissed her passionately, forgetting about formality for the time being. A quiet cough made him pull back, both royals blushing slightly at being scolded by the Grand Cleric. Instead Alistair took his bride's hand and the two of them waved at the crowd before them before being ushered through it.

"I never got chance to say earlier, since we were so rudely interrupted by our most favourite person in the world, but you look very handsome. Finery suits you," said Eleanor quietly to her new husband. They walked slowly through the crowd, their arms now linked together. "I missed you."

Alistair placed his hand on her linked arm and squeezed it briefly, before letting go. "I missed you too. But now Miss Bossy Pants can't keep us apart."

"Oh, _she's _Miss Bossy Pants now?"

"Of course," said Alistair with a smile on his face, "You're _Mrs _Bossy Pants now."


End file.
